will your mouth still remember the taste of my love
by bellamywinchester
Summary: She can't remember; he can't forget [Winner of the 2017 Klaroline Awards for Best Dark/Angst Fiction]
1. Chapter 1

I was in the mood for putting up something new and I've had this in the works for a while but need some feedback/motivation to get writing on it again. I'm about halfway through writing the story I want to tell, which is 17 000 words, so make of that what you will about how many chapters there might be (I haven't decided yet). This is just a teaser, by the way, the rest of the chapters will be far longer.

If you're interested in this, please let me know!

Enjoy :)

* * *

 _Klaus finished doing his tie then smirked, looking at the blonde staring at herself in the mirror._

 _She'd been standing in front of it for the past five minutes, making sounds of irritation and muttering to herself._

 _"What's wrong, love?"_

 _She jumped a little, clearly having momentarily forgotten that he was in the room._

 _Then she pulled a face._

 _"I can't decide if I should put my hair up or down," she pouted, gesturing toward the dress bag lying across their bed. "It's halterneck – either look would work."_

 _There were tiny worried creases between her eyes and though he found them adorable it also caused concern._

 _Crossing the room to her, he placed his hands on her hips from behind. She smiled a little, lifting her chin to look at him in the mirror._

 _"What?"_

 _He looked at her pointedly. "You're nervous."_

 _He watched her open her mouth to protest, then she quickly seemed to change tactics._

 _"Aren't you?"_

 _He thought about it._

 _All of her friends and some of her family were on their way, invited here for the purpose of determining their stance on Caroline's change of lifestyle; lover. All had accepted – yet, the hybrid thought, rather tentatively._

 _He felt the whole evening would be a test, some sort of run-through that would either justify or mystify Caroline's decision._

 _The test, as it was, didn't matter all that much to him – Caroline had made it clear that her decision existed independently of tonight. However, it was his fear that something would go wrong and it would upset her – Damon had always had a large and uninhibited mouth. In turn he feared reacting, which would all inevitably lead to chaos._

 _Thus the entire evening passing without even a single hitch was of paramount importance. Unfortunately he was well aware of the multitudes of very large hitches which followed her friends around as if magnetically, causing him slightly less confidence than would've been preferable._

 _"Perhaps a tad… apprehensive," he allowed._

 _She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully and he had no doubt she was trying to follow the line of thought he'd just gone on._

 _He smiled. "As for the hair, I enjoy the access_ up _allows me."_

 _With that he laid several tender kisses down the line of shoulder then back up into her neck, enjoying her soft unique scent and the silky smoothness of her skin._

 _"You know you can't do that around my mom, right?" she giggled._

 _But, when he turned away to finish dressing, she began pinning up her hair._

* * *

Her eyes open.

They stutter, as if badly glued together, but they open.

Panic rises in her throat like a breath and she has no idea why until it registers in her mind that she's in a coffin.

She's banging on the roof desperately before she can think to scream and it isn't long before it's lifted, but it feels like a million years before her prison is opened and she looks up into familiar ocean eyes.

For a second her heart hurts, literally it _aches_ , and she feels sick as her gaze seems to shift for a second. She sees another pair of those eyes above her – a bad superimposition.

Then it's gone and so is the fist in her stomach.

She wants to speak but her throat feels like she hasn't spoken in a million years.

She's struggling to get past the cotton wool of her oesophagus when he speaks.

"Caroline?"

The look on his face is hopeful and relieved and she has no idea what it means.

"Come on, love," he says, reaching a hand towards her.

There's a tone in his voice that she can't quite place and it scares her.

Nothing she can see looks familiar.

After a second she takes his hand, terrified to stay in the coffin for even a second longer.

She clears her throat numerously as he helps her climb out.

"Two questions," she says, her voice scratchy as she pulls her hand from his. "Where am I and why the hell was I in a _coffin_? Preferably the latter first."

Her brow is arched and Klaus' expression is such a mix of emotions that she's finding it impossible to read.

His hand lands on her wrist and it sends tingles everywhere. Not the good kind of tingles.

"Caroline, are you alright?"

"Do I _seem_ alright? What the hell is going on? Where am I? Why are you touching me?"

Instantly his hand retracts. He takes a small step back.

"Our New York home."

It's as if he's speaking a language that means different things to the speaker and listener.

He seems to think what he's saying makes perfect sense. She cannot comprehend a single word of it.

" _Our_ home? What are you talking about?"

He takes another step back, a full one this time, and she watches something dawn on his face that scares her.

"You've suffered memory loss."

It's a statement and the way he says it is hopeless; his eyes dead.

She frowns. "What? No, I haven't."

"Caroline."

It's so sombre that she meets his eyes solidly and he holds hers for a moment before speaking.

"It's January 2050."


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you guys so so much for all the lovely feedback, it really warmed my heart (and got me writing more)! I hope you guys still feel the same after this one; lemme know :)

* * *

"What are you talking about?"

He doesn't say anything and her stomach begins to sink.

Why would he lie about something like that?

"You're serious?"

He doesn't say anything, only stands there, and she turns around.

She's looking for a window to look out of but she finds a different type of glass instead and finds herself walking forward until she can touch her reflection.

Her facial features are the same. But she's wearing a dress she knows she doesn't own and her hair – it's cut to her neck with fluffy layers everywhere and her ends are pink.

"What's happening?"

"Caroline, you have been in that coffin for the past thirty-five years – "

"Why would you do that to me?" she spits, spinning around to face him again.

His face crumples. "I didn't – "

"What? You thought I was like one of your siblings; that you could just stick me in a box after I made you mad and rejected you?"

Whatever he'd been about to say dies on his lips and he makes no further move to speak. He simply stares at her and it disconcerts her far more than anything he could've said.

Then he turns away and, with his back to her, eventually speaks.

"You should get cleaned up."

She's about to argue when she remembers that she hasn't had a shower in three decades. She sighs.

"Don't think you're getting out of explaining."

"Through this way," he gestures without meeting her eyes.

She steps into the room and the door immediately closes behind her.

* * *

Stepping out of the shower, Caroline wraps a towel around her torso then opens the door into the bedroom.

Immediately she takes a surprised step back when she sees two women and a man standing there expectantly.

One speaks up. "I'm Tania. We're your beauty team. This is Greft and Kline."

"I don't need a beauty team?" Caroline says uncertainly.

Tania is wearing what Caroline assumes to be a skirt but it's in three separate parts and she has actual kid-costume wings on the back of her t-shirt. The blonde is resisting saying that even if she _did_ need a beauty team, she wouldn't want _this_ one.

But Tania is looking at her as if she didn't hear a single word. She pats the chair standing between them.

"Come on."

Immediately they get to work and the one who she assumes is Kline lays out a pair of skinny jeans and a top and cardigan on the bed.

"Your boyfriend said you had some very retro fashion taste – how is this?"

She's about to nod when she sees a sketch pinned up on a wall that's serving as their creative planning.

It's her.

She's standing, leaning back as she reads a piece of paper she's paying great attention to. Her long curls roll down her back. Her makeup is minimal but noticeable.

She's seen this artist's attention to detail before.

* * *

She's finally allowed to see herself.

Her beauty team turns her around to see into the mirror as if she's on some reality TV show and she gasps obligingly.

Her hair is long and curly again. She looks like herself. She looks like the Caroline in the picture.

"Thank you," she murmurs, touching her hair and face.

Tania inclines her head.

Then: "Klaus is waiting for you in the garden."

* * *

She can barely breathe when she steps out the back door.

Their so-called 'garden' is the size of all three of Mystic Falls' parks put together. Most of it is brilliant green field – she thinks wryly of the amount of mowing that must go into it – but there are some flower bushes around.

In the middle stands a bench and she sees a familiar figure seated on it. She begins to make her way over then changes her mind and, pulling back, she races forward.

She likes the feel of the wind in her hair again but she gets there so fast that it doesn't last long.

Klaus stands, looking at her, and his face does a funny thing where he smiles as his features fall.

"Strange. It's like stepping into a time machine."

She thinks of saying something to that then changes her mind.

"I'd like you to explain."

He sighs then nods, holding out a hand. "Have a seat."

Making sure they don't touch, she rounds him then sits on the opposite side of the bench. He notes this then sits too.

"What would you like to know first?"

She's been thinking about this a lot. There's so much she wants to know that choosing a single thing seems impossible.

"Maybe you should just start from the start."

He opens his mouth to speak but she immediately interrupts him.

"Are we… _together_?"

He deflates, letting out a long breath of air as they don't look at each other.

"Yes."

She clasps her hands together.

"…How does that make you feel?" he wonders, sneaking a cautious look at her.

"Confused," she admits. "Disgusted – mostly confused."

He nods slowly and she wants to explain herself but he begins talking.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

She thinks.

"You were trying to kill Alaric by draining Elena of her blood. But after we put you down she passed out from the blood loss and I brought her back from the hospital. I was making her tea. That's the last thing I remember."

He's silent for so long that she turns to him, surprised to see him looking perplexed.

"What?"

"That was three years before the spell was even cast."

Her jaw drops. "You're saying you did something to me that made me lose _thirty-eight_ years of my life?"

His mouth rounds but then his eyes dim and he looks away.

"Yes."

"Klaus, what happened? Tell me, or swear to god, I'm leaving."

He lets out another long breath as he stares first at the view then at his hands.

"They came for you."

* * *

 _"Love, it's time."_

 _"I know, I know," she groaned. "But one only gets to come out as a happily committed vampire to your entire family once in a lifetime."_

 _He pulled her to him with a smile. "Hopefully."_

 _She grinned as he laid a kiss in her hair. "_ Definitely _." Then she frowned. "You gave the quartet the music cue, right?"_

 _"Yes, although we may miss it if you procrastinate for any longer."_

 _She glared at him for a second then drew a deep breath._

 _"Don't let me trip."_

 _"I've never once seen you trip."_

 _"My dress is long, these heels are huge and that staircase is massive."_

 _"Is now the time to remind you that I voted against the drama of descending the staircase?"_

 _"Is now the time to remind you that I'm not half as dramatic as you and I deserve this one moment?" she snapped, glaring._

 _He chuckled and held out his arm. She smiled pleasantly as she took his arm and let him lead her to the head of the staircase. Below, forty members of her family were waiting to see her._

 _"Ready to meet my entire extended family?"_

 _He smirked. "Is now the time to remind you that on our third date you said I was not the type of guy you would ever take home to meet your mother?"_

 _She giggled and elbowed him as the string quartet began their song and they began their way down the stairs._

* * *

"So we were having some kind of coming out party?"

"Of a sort," he nods. "You wanted all of your family to know what you were." He pauses, then, quieter: "Who you'd chosen."

Caroline's eyes widen as she takes this in. It's almost impossible to believe everything he's telling her.

There's not a bone in her body that feels like she could've done any of it.

The last emotion she remembers regarding Klaus with is joy. Joy because he'd hurt her best friend and they'd put him down.

"It was my fault," he continues, sullen, "for thinking New Orleans a proper location for it." He laughed without humour. "As it turned out, Damon wasn't the one who interrupted."

* * *

 _"Mr Mikaelson."_

 _Klaus was busy chatting to her Great Aunt Cathy, reminiscing about the old days, and she jabbed him sharply in the ribs._

 _"What is it, love?"_

 _She pointed. "One of your_ servants _is trying to get your attention."_

 _He smiled wryly. Since she'd been staying here she'd been trying to get him to treat his staff better._

 _"What?" he asked the man._

 _"Sir, there's someone at the door. Well, several someones. They wish to speak with you and are refusing to leave."_

 _Klaus heaved a sigh. "What is the point of the protective detail of vampires I procured for this evening if not this?"_

 _"Well, sir," the man started uncomfortably, and Caroline noticed him shaking a little, "they killed all of them."_

 _She'd never before understood those moments in a movie when all the sound drops out and time slows down. But right now she felt she could watch and hear a pin drop._

 _"Caroline," Klaus turned to her, his lips drawn into a line even as he tried to remain polite. "Would you mind taking over entertaining Catherine?"_

 _"Yes," she said through gritted teeth, forcing her hand into his. "I'm coming with you."_

 _He stared at her, hoping to discourage her, but it was hopeless, and after a few seconds he shot a smile at her relative before pulling her along through the throng of people._

 _"Any idea who they are?" she asked._

 _"None."_

 _Which was what was putting him on edge. He'd done all he possibly could've to prepare for this party, to make it as safe as possible for all Caroline's human relatives, and some group had come in and made a sham of it all._

 _"Don't take a step outside," he muttered, his mind whirring._

 _"I'm not stupid, Klaus," she shot back._

 _But they were human. He knew it the second he caught sight of them standing on his front porch, with strange-looking weapons covered in the blood and guts of his vampire security._

 _They had the numbers – perhaps sixty in all – though he didn't doubt that they must have lost some fighting their way there._

 _Their leader was short and bald but young, his eyes beady._

 _"Klaus, so glad you could take some time out of your schedule," he said as if they were old friends, which pissed Klaus off._

 _"Who are you?" he growled._

 _"Name's Reese," he informed him primly, "and you have something I want."_

 _"Well, since you interrupted my party, killed my friends and asked so nicely – of course. What is it I can get you?"_

 _The rest of the party had realised something was wrong and a bunch of them were now crowding around the front door behind the couple._

 _Her mother was right behind her when Reese pointed at Caroline._

 _"We need_ her _heart."_

* * *

"What?"

Klaus rubs his brows tiredly. She gets the feeling that re-living this isn't easy for him.

"They needed your heart for this spell, this absurd spell – "

"What did it do?"

He hesitates then meets her eyes.

"It would make them immortal."

She freezes then, as he stares at her, forces herself back into motion and manages to produce a scoff.

"Had they _heard_ of vampirism?"

Her reply makes him smile just the slightest bit before he's back to frowning.

"As you know, vampirism has certain drawbacks. The sun, the wood, the bloodlust. This was a far more lenient type of immortality."

She frowned too. "If that existed, why didn't your mother use that one for your family?"

 _Pacing. Up and down, back and forth._

 _"Klaus, please say something."_

 _"You said you remember the spell?" Bonnie pressed._

 _Klaus had shut the door in the humans' faces after the ultimatum and they were now in a room upstairs. Her, Bonnie, Elena, Damon, Stefan and her mom – all staring at Klaus as he paced._

 _"Vaguely," he waved a hand around. Caroline could tell he was frustrated by his inability to remember. "I once accidentally caught sight of it in one of Esther's grimoires…"_

 _"Well, spit it out!" Damon shouted._

 _"It was a thousand years ago, mate!" Klaus glared._

 _She could tell it was more than that. He was actually panicking. Real panic, like a normal human person. She'd never seen Klaus do that before._

 _Instinctively she stepped forward and grabbed his hands in hers._

 _He stopped and she didn't say anything till his eyes, wild, met hers._

 _"Hey." She stared back at him with forceful determination. "It's ok."_

 _Slowly his pupils returned to normal, focusing on hers as he grounded himself in her heartbeat and breathing._

 _"First tell us about the spell," she started him off easily._

 _He nodded and she slowly let him go._

 _He turned to the rest but she stayed at his side._

 _"The spell was for immortality. But, though it came with far fewer possible side effects, it also had an ingredient list as long as a limb, most of which either made no sense whatsoever or were impossible to come by."_

 _"…So Esther chose another one, the one that turned your family into vampires?" Elena confirmed._

 _He nodded. "Which came with the unfortunate sun and bloodlust issues."_

 _"But you said you saw this other spell?" Stefan pressed._

 _Klaus put a hand to his eyes, rubbing them hard._

 _She caught his free hand. Quickly they shared a glance and her calm despite everything going on spread to him._

 _"Yes." He found himself slowly remembering. "They were impossible to procure. At the time it seemed as if they were encrypted, but now… some things make more sense."_

 _"Such as?" Liz questioned._

 _"The earlobe of the charitable princess; the lady murdered by her own."_

 _The room was silent for a minute._

 _"Lady Diana?" Caroline choked out._

 _The room gasped as Klaus nodded. "Likely."_

 _"Why her_ earlobe _?" Damon muttered to himself in disgust._

 _"There were many different body parts like that. The forefinger of the Egyptian princess; the collarbone of – "_

 _"But Caroline isn't a princess," Stefan pointed out._

 _"They weren't all royalty," Klaus sighed. "They were noteworthy; unique…"_

 _He trailed off. Caroline frowned as the room burst into chatter and the Original seemed to retreat back into his own mind._

 _"Hey, what's wrong?" He tried to turn away but she held him fast. "What is it?"_

 _"There was one thing on the list that never made sense to me, not even on a fundamental level. It stuck in my head for a few seconds longer than the rest."_

 _"Ok… what was it?"_

 _Bonnie came closer, worry etched into her features._

 _"It's her, isn't it?"_

 _With that the room quieted down and Caroline's heart pounded in her chest._

 _All the blood had rushed out of Klaus' face. He looked terrified and a million other emotions that she wasn't even sure how to categorise._

 _"Klaus, what did it say?"_

 _Reluctantly he met her eyes._

 _"The undead beating heart of the one who won the hybrid's heart."_

* * *

"Oh my god."

"Caroline – "

"No, don't touch me."

Immediately he retracts his hand again and tears form in her eyes. They're instinctive, her body aware of something she isn't.

But what she knows is bad enough.

"They wanted to kill me because you loved me?"

"… I'm sorry," he chokes out.

Tears continue to well in her eyes and she realises she can't stay any longer, can't listen to any more of it.

"I have to go," she propels herself up, and he stands too, almost as if they are physically linked. Except he immediately draws back when he realises, catching her harsh glance. "I need someone I know and trust to tell me this is all real."

He nods without meeting her eyes, his gaze on the ground.

"Damon has a bar nearby."

"Is Elena with him?"

He hesitates for a moment. In the time she remembers, Elena had been stuck between the two brothers – Caroline had been the one to tell her that she had to make a decision.

"Yes," he says, still not meeting her eyes.

She nods then begins to walk off, leaving him at the bench, but then she stops.

Her back is to him but she works up the courage.

"There's something else."

* * *

 _"I'm sorry."_

 _"Stop apologising, seriously," she glares. "This isn't your fault. This is the fault of whatever sick jerk made up that crazy spell."_

 _She'd asked for a moment alone with him and the room had emptied so they could have some quiet to discuss this bombshell._

 _"God, what a twisted freak, like seriously."_

 _He was hunched over on a chair, not meeting her eyes, and she sighed then got down to his eye level._

 _"Don't ever apologise for loving me."_

 _He looked miserable._

 _"Now seems like the appropriate moment, love."_

 _"Seriously. Stop."_

 _His eyes, dejected, finally rose to meet hers again and she regarded him seriously._

 _"If you didn't love me, we wouldn't be here right now."_

 _"Yes, that's the problem."_

 _She rolled her eyes. "I_ mean _we wouldn't be together."_

 _Uncertainty flashed through his eyes and she darted forward to kiss him, pushing him back until he was holding her in his arms as she sat on his lap, her own arms wrapped around his neck._

 _Then she pulled away._

 _"I don't care what kind of danger it puts me in. I want this. I_ want us _." She placed her forehead against his. "I want your love." She caressed his stubble with her hand. "Never doubt that."_

 _He caught her hand, taking it into his with a sniff._

 _"Your family is going to hate me."_

 _"Probably," she shrugged with a little laugh._

 _It made him smile. She was always light in the midst of every bit of darkness._

 _"But_ I _love you. Don't ever forget that."_

 _She kissed him again before her light blue eyes held his solidly._

 _"I love you, Klaus Mikaelson."_

* * *

She turns and catches evidence of a memory in his eyes, a flashback he hasn't shared with her.

She doesn't ask for it because at this point she can't be sure that every single thing he's told her hasn't been a lie.

"What?" he asks, sounding tired again.

She steps closer, knowing they can hear each other from a distance, but needing them to be close when she asks him this.

"There's one thing I haven't asked you yet. The thing that makes the least sense to me."

"Which is what?"

She sizes him up; takes a breath.

"Why was I with you? How could I be?"

He opens his mouth then shuts it. Seemingly there is no answer to this but she waits.

"I don't – "

Again he stops abruptly and her brows furrow. If _he_ can't even explain it how is she supposed to believe it?

"You don't _know_? Because it makes no sense? Because everything you are repulses me and I'd never be with a monster like you?"

He stands there and takes her words, his face falling.

"I don't know how to answer that."

"Answer it with the consideration that maybe I was pretending all along and you just fell for it."

He shakes his head. "…You," he swallows, "… you loved me."

She backs away then scoffs; openly snarls.

"I love Tyler."


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys! First off, thank you sooooo much for all the feedback. In addition to helping me get this right here up, I also wrote another chapter. I'm so psyched you guys are liking the concept of this story and I hope it stays that way - let me know :)

* * *

"Is Damon here?"

The bartender points to a dark corner and she heads toward it, noting how the grubby side of culture's fashion sense hasn't changed much. Which means that it's the only place she's been in the past hour where she feels sane.

Having never been outside of Mystic Falls before – well, that she knows of, anyway – she got so lost after rushing out of Klaus' house. She'd been so sure he would follow her that she'd run blindly and it had been fifty blocks away when she'd realised that he wasn't behind her and that she knew nothing about navigation in a big city. Thankfully Damon had made a bit of a name for himself and his bar, otherwise she likely never would've found it.

Still, she'd had to wade through a ton of crazy fashion and makeup before making it here – more evidence that at least the time part of Klaus' story was real.

It really was 2050.

Damon turns, they lock eyes, and she's readying her familiar disgusted eye roll greeting when suddenly the wind is knocked out of her.

But she's not being attacked – she's being hugged.

By Damon. Damon is hugging her. Tightly.

"Damon… can't breathe," she manages to cough out.

It's another second before he lets her go and then he just stares as she chokes back oxygen.

"What the hell was that?!"

"Your hair's back," he notes with a grin. "Wasn't ever a fan of the pink, gotta be honest."

"You just hugged me," she points out.

"Oh man, you look like you used to, back in the day," he notes, gaze roaming over her.

"You, Damon, hugged me, Caroline."

"I can't believe you're really here," he continues staring at her as if she's a unicorn.

"Are you listening to a word I'm saying?"

"When did you get out?"

Realising she isn't going to be getting an answer to the whole hugging situation, she moves on.

"A few hours ago."

"Oh. Whoa. Wow. What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, kinda. I actually – "

She breaks off, blinking, as Damon pulls her into another hug, this time pinning her arms inside it too.

"This is the most confusing moment of my life," she murmurs.

Eventually he pulls away and finally he looks a little chagrined.

"Sorry," he says, sitting down again. "It's just, after everything that happened, it's good to see a familiar face again. And it's nice to know it was all even a little worth it."

She frowns deeply, with absolutely zero idea of what he's on about.

"Everything that happened?"

"Yeah, the…"

He trails off as he stares at her, this time differently, his eyes wide in horror instead of joy.

"The memory loss. It actually happened?"

She sighs. "Yeah. I was really hoping that you or Elena could help me fill some things in."

His eyes darken. She guesses Elena chose Stefan, then. It'd make sense why Damon chose to open a dump like this.

"Take a seat," he gestures, before holding up four fingers to the bartender. "What do you remember?"

"Putting down Klaus," she shrugs. "You, Stefan, and Tyler stopped him when he was trying to drain Elena's blood to kill Alaric. She hit her head and I took her home from the hospital."

Damon's jaw goes slack, then he sits back, leaning against the wall as he whistles lowly.

"Blondie, you're missing a lot."

"Yeah, I figured out that much."

The bartender delivers four shots and Damon pushes them all to her before ordering more.

"You're gonna need those."

"Look, Klaus told me some stuff but I don't know what I can believe."

He stares at her for a few seconds then bursts into laughter.

It lasts for a long time but it's also hollow and cold; cruel. It makes her feel awful inside.

"You're kidding me," he says eventually. "All this; everything he did for you, everything we sacrificed, and you don't even trust a word the guy says. That's rich. That's the planet giving us a giant screw you; that's just fantastic."

"E-everything he did for me?"

He narrows his eyes.

"Tell me what he told you."

* * *

"Yip. All true."

She's done three of the four shots and now her jaw drops.

"Seriously?"

"Absolutely. I was there for all of it. That's just the beginning though; the top of the shitstorm iceberg."

She holds her breath.

"Tell me."

He orders more drinks and then he does.

"Reese's little gang's ultimatum was that we hand you over within the week. After you two came out of the room you went downstairs and told your family everything. Klaus said he wasn't willing to hand you over, no matter what. But then he revealed the _fun_ part of it all: Reese must have waited till the night of the party on purpose. Your entire family was there, every single person you knew and loved. If even one of them left, they'd be captured and ransomed for you. Klaus couldn't let that happen so he put the house on lockdown."

"He did?"

"Yip," he popped the p. "Original hybrid was not playing around. He said he'd kill anyone before he let them leave, at which point you elbowed him pretty sharply."

That brings an involuntary smile to her mouth and she quickly quashes it.

"Needless to say, it wasn't much of a party anymore. It was all survival. First we worked out defence, then our offence, then all the bullshit that came with having forty people living in one house for an unknown amount of time. Groceries were, and I shit you not, _helicoptered_ in."

"Oh my god," she murmurs.

This all sounded insane. Completely and utterly.

"All this to save me?"

He shrugs. "They were your family and friends. What else would you expect?"

That warms her heart and she allows the resulting smile.

"Unfortunately the same didn't quite go for Klaus' troops. Word had gotten around about Reese's fancy guns, the ones that took hearts out like they were cookie cutters. Loyalty to him turned to 'Why don't we just hand her over?', which obviously ended with their heads rolling."

Pulling a face, she feels guilt begin to set in. She'd been so mean to him and Klaus had apparently done all this to keep her safe.

"So Klaus started helicoptering _people_ in, too. We turned them into vampires. Elijah and I trained them to fight. We manufactured an army by the bucket load."

She frowns, horrified.

"Where was I?"

He smirks. "Locked up in the tower." At her questioning look: "Reese's men could overpower us and storm the house at any time. Bonnie had a room spelled which you pretty much never left for your safety." He smiles a little, amusedly. "I don't think you knew about the humans."

"Ok… and did we win?"

He pulls a face and she thinks she sees a bitter emotion there. He downs a shot.

"There were way way more of them than we'd realised. Hundreds upon hundreds of them. Slowly but surely they invaded. They were closing in and that's when we all went out to fight." His eyes lower. "It was a bloodbath."

She doesn't say anything, her hand to her mouth.

How can she not remember any of this?

"That's when Klaus had Bonnie do the spell on you. It was the only way to stop the fighting. They needed every single ingredient on the list. If they couldn't have you, they couldn't perform the spell."

"So?"

"So the list said a beating heart. Meaning your heart couldn't be _beating_ anymore."

Everything begins to click into place.

The coffin.

"The spell would make you look dead," he explains. "The plan was to do it and show them that they couldn't get what they needed so that the war would stop. That was the simple part. Not so simple – all the spell's possible side effects. Numero uno of which you're currently experiencing."

"Memory loss," she murmurs and he nods.

"And we didn't know how long you'd be asleep for."

She shifts, suddenly uncomfortable. She can't pinpoint what it is. Maybe it's how starkly she treated Klaus or maybe it's the harsh reality of thirty-eight years of her life missing from her memory.

And it hadn't been thirty-eight years of washing dishes and recycling. She couldn't remember a _war_ – one that had revolved around her; that people had died for.

"What about Elena?" she suddenly realises. "Where was she during all of this? With me and Bonnie? And where is she now? Where are either of them? Klaus said Elena would be with you?"

He smiles a little at the beginning then shakes his head.

"…He said that?"

She nods and he lets out a long sigh.

"You obviously don't remember this, but Elena was a vampire."

"What?" she gasps.

"Yeah. Thank Dr Fell and her non-doctor ways of saving people's lives."

"Ok…"

"Which means she fought in that last round, just like the rest of us. She fought for you."

She stands up off her chair, casting her eyes around wildly.

"Where is she, Damon? Klaus said she'd be here!"

"Yeah, well, he probably didn't wanna have to be the one to tell you that, too."

She's shaking her head before he even says it.

"Elena's dead, Caroline. Just like Bonnie. Just like Stefan. They're all dead."

* * *

"No."

He catches her arm and she fights against him, punches his chest, and he lets her. He takes the beating and she understands that it's because it hurts less.

She understands because there's a hole in her chest so big she doesn't know if she can breathe.

Her legs give out and he places her back on the stool.

Her eyes widen.

"M-my mom?"

"Liz is ok," he assures her. "Old, but ok."

She lets out a breath.

Then she draws another one in. It hurts so much she sees stars but at least she can breathe again.

Her mother is alive.

She has to breathe for her.

Slowly Damon lets go of her, going back to his side of the table.

"That's why you're here," she realises.

"I've never been alone before," he muses. "Not really. I mean I've spent most of my life alone, but I always knew Stefan was out there, somewhere. Now… now I don't know. I have this stake that I look at every other day and I don't know why it's not in my heart already." He looks at her. "Now I'm thinking maybe I had to see you."

The hug. Slowly, so so slowly, every single thing begins to make so much more sense.

Klaus hesitating when she asked about Elena. Damon hugging her long and hard.

"I don't understand."

He swallows. "After Reese's gang saw what looked like your dead body, they had nothing left to fight for. They thought everything their perverted cult had been working towards for centuries had crumbled. Know that saying 'Together we stand, divided we fall?'. Well, it's true. They fell." He sighs. "But Klaus didn't just want them dispersed and weak. He wanted them extinct. For when you woke up. If even a single one of them or their beliefs were still around, you wouldn't be safe."

He stops, drawing a large breath. She waits but he does another two shots before he's ready to continue speaking again.

"I was broken. I didn't care whether I lived or died; I definitely didn't care whether _you_ did. But he wanted my help. I told him to fuck off, obviously. But he made a good point. He said Elena would've wanted me to do it. And that if you ever died, all their deaths would be for nothing."

Again her eyes are wide as she listens to him recount everything Klaus had done to keep her safe.

"So together we hunted every single one of them down. We slaughtered them," he smiles sadistically, "ripped their guts out and relished in the warmth of their blood. We found their ledgers and registers and everything that had a name on it. We killed their wives and their children and their cousins and everyone who'd ever talked to them about their beliefs. It took eleven goddamn years, but we made them extinct, just like he wanted. There's not a person on this earth who knows about that spell anymore."

"Damon…"

She doesn't know what to say. Thank you would feel wrong and wouldn't cut it. Besides, he didn't do it for her. She understands that.

"I… I guess you guys got pretty close, then."

She says it mainly to say _something_ – nothing seems right but something must be said.

Damon stares at her for a moment then smiles, almost amused, but it's so cold it sends shivers down her spine.

"I've never hated the guy more." He downs a shot then looks her up and down. "He has what I can never have back."

With that he stumbles off to some place it's clear he doesn't want her to follow.

* * *

She knocks.

It's weird. She's never knocked at her own front door before.

She hears something scrape closer to the door and she lets out a nervous breath.

Then the door opens and she sees first the walker – the result of all the scraping – then an under-eighty year old woman who she knows with her mind is her mother but she gasps all the same.

"Caroline!"

"Oh my god. Mom."

She's stuck. She's so ecstatic to see her, especially knowing what she now knows, but she's also petrified.

The sight of her mother this old is so uncanny that it stops her from moving forward because her body is telling her that this woman with short grey hair and granny sweats cannot possibly be her mother.

"Oh god, I must look so old to you," Liz realises.

It's that – hearing her mother's voice – that sends her vaulting into her arms. She dodges the walker, pulling her mother so close that Liz has to remind her about frail bones.

Still, she doesn't let go, not for the longest time.

She spends minutes upon minutes just breathing in her mother and her house and then taking in her heartbeat and the fact that all of this is real.

* * *

She cries for hours.

Her mother sat her down on their same old sofa and she lay on her lap and sobbed.

It started while it was light and now it's dark and she still just wants to keep going but she figures maybe it's time.

"Mom, I'm just gonna get myself some water – "

"No, you stay here," Liz says firmly, already beginning to stand.

Caroline lifts her head and watches her grey mother get to her walker and slowly but surely head off.

"I may be old but I'm still your mother and that means I get to take care of you."

She tries for a smile but it's hopeless and it feels so wrong, so disrespectful, that she buries her face in her hands.

"Here you go, baby."

She barely looks up as she takes the glass.

There's a knock on the door as she sips.

"I'll get it," she says, mainly to be polite.

She isn't sure she's capable of rising, if moving at all.

Liz smiles as if she's well aware, and the scraping of her mother's walker in the direction of the front door just adds another thing to the list of stuff allowing guilt to consume her.

She wonders idly who's at the door.

As a kid she'd always hated this town for never changing. But as she'd driven her rental car, she couldn't believe how different it was from what she remembers. Most notably the sign in front of the church, in commemoration of all those who had been lost to supernatural forces.

"Caroline."

She looks up and suddenly hates her body for being so useless right now. Then again, she's home, where else can she run to?

She shoots a pleading look at her mother and Liz sends a stern one back.

"I'll leave you two alone."

With that she scrapes out and Caroline turns away, not wanting to look at him.

"You're surprised?"

"I thought you'd follow me to the bar, not to another state."

"I was worried about you," he admits.

She wants to scream that that's a lie, that he doesn't care about anything.

But everything Damon told her is still rolling around in her head. Added to it is the way Liz had looked at Klaus; the fact that she'd let him in at all. The way she'd said she'd leave them alone, as if she was intruding on something private; a couple.

"I really don't want you here," she says softly.

He clears his throat. "I understand. It's just…"

He trails off, doesn't finish for the longest moment, and she looks up.

"What?"

He looks ashamed.

"…I just don't know what else to do."

She thinks about it for a minute. She feels bad for him. He must have spent a very long time imagining what it would be like when she finally woke up out of that coffin; what their life would be like – how they could finally continue it together. And now it's nothing like anything he'd imagined.

But she feels worse for herself. And she feels ten times worse for everyone who lost someone in that war.

She begins to stand then falls right back down again. Klaus reaches out a hand and she pulls her arm away from his reach.

"Please don't touch me," she murmurs, not harshly.

She doesn't meet his eyes as she tries over and over again to stand.

Eventually, on her fourth try, she gets it.

She tries to ignore the utter concern he has for her in his eyes.

"Look, I know this is hard for you and weird. I get that. But the thing is that I don't know what to do, either. I don't remember our life together and from what I do remember, I really don't want to be with you. I remember you as a monster, and that's it."

His jaw is clenching and she feels awful but continues.

"Thank you for doing everything you did to keep me safe. I'm sorry that this is how it worked out; I get that it's not fair to you either. But the truth is that because of you I lost thirty-eight years of my life and every single one of my friends."

Tears begin to roll down her cheeks. This is harder than she thought it might be, but she pushes through all the same.

"If you really care about me as much as you say you do, you'd leave now and forget about whatever it is we had, because it's never gonna happen again."


	4. Chapter 4

I hope you guys are still enjoying this story - please let me know. Thank you for all the wonderful feedback so far :)

* * *

He left.

With a clenched jaw he'd left and Caroline's left behind with an awful unexplained pit in her stomach.

It's weird. Ever since she'd opened her eyes in that coffin and seen him, it's as if her kneejerk reactions aren't her own anymore.

She's distracted by her mother re-entering the lounge from the kitchen.

"What was that?"

"…What was what?"

"What you just said."

"Mom," she began, sighing. There were still tears on her cheeks. "I told you what I remember about him. What do you want from me; what do you expect from me?"

Liz stood up straight.

"I _want_ you to give him a chance, Caroline. He loves you, I've seen it with my own eyes. And you loved him. I saw that with my own eyes, too – when you _begged_ me to give him a chance; promised that he was so much more than a monster."

Caroline's eyes widen.

"But what I _expect_ is for you to be honest with yourself. You remember hating him because that's what you _want_ to remember, because it's easier and not as scary. But you're lying to yourself if you genuinely believe that's all you feel for him."

She doesn't know what to say.

"You should go to your room," Liz finishes.

Her jaw drops. "Are you seriously sending me to my room?"

For the first time since discovering Caroline on the doorstep, Liz smiles, amused.

"There's something for you there."

* * *

Boxes.

In her room sits two small boxes.

She's still not sure what to make of life or herself. She's so frustrated it hurts to think about anything.

But her mom seemed to think whatever is in these boxes will help, so she steps forward and opens the one marked 1.

 ** _Date_ _**

* * *

 **This is not a diary.**

She gasps at her own handwriting.

Her hand jumps to the page, tracing over it with her fingers as she tries and fails to remember putting these markings on this page.

But still, it's undoubtedly her handwriting, every single word on the page.

 **I'm no writer. But Elena gave me this to stop me from going insane. Well, that's not how she phrased it. But it's Elena. I told her I'd prefer if she just came around more often but she made a semi-good point: if I keep a journal, maybe later this entire period of my life won't feel like an utter waste of time.**

 **Still, it's not like I'm doing much and definitely not anything note-worthy.**

 **Elena brought me this stupid book. Mom brought me a tuna sandwich and pretended nothing is wrong. She's really bad at it. Bonnie let me give her a makeover and I did pretty good for a pity favour.**

 **Klaus didn't come. Though tomorrow he'll have someone tell me he came by but it was when I was asleep already. He's been guilt-avoiding me for a while now. I guess that's why I gave in on the diary thing. Bonnie's heard enough of me telling her that he's lying because he knows I'll leave the room if he doesn't at least pretend he's coming by. Maybe tomorrow I'll pretend I stayed up all night. Yeah that sounds good. Bad, but good.**

 **Caroline out. (or however these things are supposed to end)**

Caroline smiles at her own greeting, running her fingers over it. Then she frowns and flips through the rest of the book.

Most of the pages are half-filled like this one. Some only have a few sentences. She picks up another journal then another and another. Same thing except one of them has one day with several pages of description.

She's curious to know what it's about, but she's never been the kind of person who can skip to the end of a story and just because it's her own won't change that.

So she moves the boxes aside to sit down with number one and turns the page.

 ** _Date_ _**

* * *

 **I didn't stay up. But I did confront him. It was awkward, although probably mostly for Bonnie.**

 _"Bonnie, can you leave us alone for a moment?"_

 _"No, she stays," Klaus refused._

 _"Oh my god," she fumed. "So first you don't want to come see me and now you don't want to be alone with me – do I repulse you now, Klaus?"_

 _He sighed, rubbing a finger over his brow. "You're being unreasonable, love."_

 _"Um, I'll just be… over here."_

 _Bonnie sat down in the middle of the bed and they watched as she put on her headphones then turned her back to them._

 _Caroline took a deep breath._

 _She hadn't meant to say that. But not only was he not coming to see her, he was also lying about it. And the fact that she'd had to send the threat through the_ freaking maid _that if she didn't get to talk to her boyfriend she would be going out into the garden during broad daylight, wasn't doing anything for her mood._

 _"You know she can't leave for your safety."_

 _She turned her back to him, taking a few steps away._

 _"Can you just tell me the truth?" she said, a steel edge to her tone. "When last have you actually been here?"_

 _"Every night. Like I've said."_

 _She laughed and it wasn't kind. "Oh, so what, you've been doing the Edward Cullen thing?"_

 _He scoffed. "That's offensive."_

 _She spun around, throwing up her hands._

 _"Yeah, well how do you think it feels knowing the only time you can stand to be around me is when I'm not conscious?"_

 _His eyes flashed. "That's not how it is."_

 _"That's exactly how it is," she argued. "You feel guilty, I get that. But you know what, Klaus? Did it ever occur to you that I do, too?"_

 _He opened his mouth to counter but she wasn't finished._

 _"Did it ever occur to you that I'd like_ some _information about what's going on outside this tiny room?"_

 _He winced._

 _"…I can have you kept updated."_

 _She stepped forward, laying both her hands on his chest._

 _"Did it ever occur to you that I'm scared? That I need you?"_

 _He blinked in wordless surprise and she smiled a little._

 _"I know you're not Mr Considerate or anything, but this was bad even for you."_

 _He chuckled before laying his lips against her forehead._

 _"I'm sorry."_

 _Like that the last of her anger melted away and she closed her eyes, breathing him in._

 _"I really missed you," she sighed eventually._

 _"I missed you, too," he admitted._

 _Pulling him closer, she hugged him._

 _"You mean my sleeping form wasn't great company?" she teased, and he scoffed._

 _She settled on his shoulder before pulling a hand into his hair, grasping some of his curls tightly._

 _"I can get through this, but I need you, ok? You can't abandon me."_

 _He nodded. "I won't."_

She shut the book with a frown.

The way she'd described their relationship was so… intimate. It freaks her out.

Flushed with confusion and uneasy denial, she does the only thing she can think to do – she goes looking for her mother.

* * *

"Mom, I don't understand," she says, entering her bedroom.

Liz peers at her. "What don't you understand?"

She begins to speak then throws her hands up.

"…Everything."

Her mother looks sympathetic and Caroline looks away. She doesn't want sympathy. She wants logic. She wants something – anything – to make sense.

"I knew you wouldn't believe anyone but yourself."

She wants to argue that Klaus could have gotten a handwriting analyst and forged it all, but she sits instead.

She knows those were her words. Not in a cheesy romantic movie kind of way, either. It was that same feeling as when she'd first woken – as if there were two people inside her, or perhaps an echo of everything she couldn't remember.

Like when she'd cried earlier. Her body kept feeling and doing things her brain couldn't make sense of.

Could loving someone become part of your muscle memory?

"I don't know what to do, Mom."

Liz doesn't say anything and Caroline studies her hands.

She thinks about them holding those journals and writing in them, and no matter how much magic she's been exposed to in her life, she still doesn't understand how she can't just _remember._

"I can't tell you what to do, Caroline. All I can tell you is that…" Her mother sighs. "I don't think you should let him leave."

She meets her mother's wide old eyes and finds herself nodding.

If nothing else, Klaus is like those journals. History; evidence of a life she'd lived that she no longer remembers. She needs to know her story.

"Thanks, Mom."

She stands up and is halfway to the door when she stops, remembering.

"Mom," she turns back around, "what did you mean earlier? When you said that I was lying to myself?"

Liz smiles slowly, as if she'd been waiting for the question.

"I once asked you when you started falling for him. You stuttered and did your ranting thing for a while," Liz smiles nostalgically, standing slowly to get on eye level with her daughter. "And then you said the Ball."

* * *

Caroline sits on her bed and plays with what is apparently a cellphone now.

It's her mom's, which had initially made her laugh because she can't imagine the old lady who is her mom being this technologically forward, but it had quickly become a sad thought instead. She'd missed so much.

Klaus' number is on this.

She plays with it some more. It's light so it's easy to procrastinate by tossing and catching it instead of just making the phone call. It's been hours since she'd left her mom's room and she still feels uneasy.

 _Is it true?_ she keeps thinking.

Had she begun to have feelings, no matter how few, for Klaus that night of his family's Ball?

She doesn't see why her mother would lie or why she would have lied to her mother, but it doesn't make sense.

She didn't fall for the villain.

All at once she forces herself into calling and then he's answering and she realises she hasn't at all prepared what to say to him.

"Liz? What's wrong? Is she alright?"

That renders her completely speechless. She doesn't know whether it's because of how genuinely concerned he sounds or knowing that he speaks this way with her mother, but somehow she finds herself lacking words.

"Um." She clears her throat. "It's me, actually."

"Oh."

"I can give the phone to my mom, if you want."

"You called me," he points out.

"Right," she blushes. "Um…"

A few long moments pass and she's mentally cursing about how she so shouldn't have done this, when he speaks again.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, it's just…"

"What?"

"I was…" She clears her throat again. "I was wondering if you'd meet me tomorrow. At the Grill, or something."

There's more awkward silence during which she considers ending the call and pretending it never happened.

"I thought you wanted me to leave you alone?"

She closes her eyes. "I know I said that. It's just that… I think there's probably some more explanations, and I don't know, other things we maybe both would've wanted to say?"

A shorter pause.

"I've missed your rambling."

The way he says it is sad, as if it's something that's just managed to slip out, and it makes her feel strange.

"Uh, so… maybe twelve o' clock?"

"Alright."

Quickly she ends the call. Trying not to think about it, she picks back up her journal and lies down to read.

 ** _Date_ _**

* * *

 **Klaus had lunch with me and Bonnie today.**

 **It was pretty hilarious watching them try to have a polite conversation. I kept thinking about how much I loved them both for trying for me.**

Caroline frowns then, scanning the rest of the page for anything interesting, skips to the next day.

 ** _Date_ _**

* * *

 **Some of my aunts came to visit me today.**

 **I thought I'd have to do a lot of explaining and calming but all they kept wanting to talk about was how cute Klaus being so protective is.**

 **I kept asking them how their rooms were and saying I was sorry for not being with them more, but they just kept saying Klaus was having them well taken care of and that as long as I was safe nothing else mattered.**

 **If anything good has come out of this whole stupid thing it's that I realised how much I love my family.**

Mentally she makes a note to ask her mom tomorrow about the rest of her family then turns the page.

 ** _Date_ _**

* * *

 **Today I found out that we're having things helicoptered in.**

 **I did a lot of glaring at Klaus. I had to admit I didn't have much of a better solution, though.**

 **He promised me he'd take _me_ somewhere in a helicopter one day though, so there's that. Although at this point I'm beginning to wonder whether I'm ever getting out of this room. **

**Note to self: never become a rare artefact again. It's really freaking boring.**

She smiles. She'd been wondering when utter boredom would have begun setting in. From what she's reading, the room didn't sound very big and Caroline had always been prone to going stir crazy.

 ** _Date_ _**

* * *

 **Possibly made things awkward for Bonnie again.**

 **But seriously, I'm so mad at Klaus.**

Her eyebrow quirks up.

 **Apparently we aren't just having things helicoptered in. Oh no, that would be too normal and reasonable for an Original hybrid apparently. Nope, we have to have actual people helicoptered in. And no, not cleaning staff or anything. **

**Sacrifices. To his stupid vampire soldier camp. He despises that I call it that, by the way. Which meant I called it that like ten times.**

 _"Love, at least try and see reason."_

 _"Right. Because_ I'm _the unreasonable one here. I mean, who_ wouldn't _immediately think to start kidnapping people, turn them into vampires against their will in some vampire soldier camp, and then sending them into a war for you? That's just common sense!"_

 _He rubbed a hand over his eyes._

 _"I'll remind you that you're the one who wanted updates."_

 _"And did I ask for this?"_

 _"I'm trying to keep you alive!" he roared._

 _"I don't care!" she shouted, her chest heaving. "I don't care what the results are if this is what it takes!"_

 _"Caroline – "_

 _"Just get out. Go to your vampire soldier camp, or something."_

 _"So first you want me to come by and then you kick me out?"_

 _Her eyes turned dangerous as she glared at him._

 _"What I_ want _is for us to win this with integrity."_

 _"You don't win a war with integrity, love. You win it by making sacrifices the other side won't."_

 _She threw up her hands._

 _"I don't want to talk about this anymore. Please just go."_

 **At least Bonnie was taking a shower. But I feel like she probably heard us shouting at each other – I'd be surprised if all of New Orleans didn't hear.**

The usual greeting isn't there. She must have been really upset. Even now she kind of is, but she also feels something else.

Relief, maybe, or something close to it.

Damon had thought Klaus hadn't told her about the humans, but he had.

 ** _Date_ _**

* * *

 **Elena came to plead Klaus' case.**

 **Yeah, you read that right. Apparently she oversees the whole vampire soldier camp thing and tries to keep it humane, or whatever.**

 **I was so mad she hadn't told me that I almost threw all her journals back in her face. Well, I actually did. But she's a vampire, what harm were books really gonna do? Anyway, Bonnie distracted me so I mostly missed her face.**

 **Klaus didn't come.**

 **If he thinks absence is gonna make the heart grow fonder he's in for one hell of a surprise.**

 **Caroline out.**

 ** _Date_ _**

* * *

 **Mom came by.**

 **She hadn't known about the human thing. She's not happy about it. Although she's not gonna fight it either. Her reasoning is that she's not sure how to go about telling someone not to do everything possible to protect her daughter and god I hate everyone today.**

 ** _Date_ _**

* * *

 **Bonnie tried to convince me over to Klaus' side.**

 **I may be caving. Although it's mostly because I miss him.**

 **I don't know if he'll come back if I ask him to and that scares me.**

 **Bonnie says I'm being dumb and should just ask him. At least on the vampire soldier camp thing she's on my side – but she has the same general excuse as my mom. Plus she's stuck in here with me, which she thinks means she has no power over executive decisions.**

 **I pointed out that if we both rebelled, Klaus would totally have to do whatever we wanted, and she said she can't threaten to stop the spell because she's not going to and Klaus knows that.**

 **I wanted to tell her she could have had a contract drawn up to that effect and have signed it in her own blood and he still wouldn't believe her, because he doesn't trust anyone, but at this point even I'm sick of my own voice and none of it matters because innocent people are still dying for me out there.**

 ** _Date_ _**

* * *

 **Bonnie keeps telling me to send a message to Klaus.**

 **The cleaners and people who bring us our food seem to know a lot about his comings and goings, though. I get information through them and I guess pine from afar.**

 **It's kind of like the beginning all over again, I suppose, with me playing hard to get.**

Caroline frowns at this but is disappointed to see that there's no more reference to the beginning.

She feels annoyed with herself. She shouldn't need a freaking journal to tell her how she feels.

And yet… all by herself she really doesn't know. All she knows is that she needs her walls. And even if she were willing to let them down for him, she doesn't know how.

Maybe that's what she wants – an explanation; instructions.

 ** _Date_ _**

* * *

 **Today it was my aunts.**

 **I swear to god, if I didn't know any better, I'd say Klaus is sending everyone in to rally for him. My aunts don't actually know what's going on, though, so it was mostly a lot of "You can't be upset with a man who loves you so much".**

 **…This is beginning to feel like the world's longest Thanksgiving dinner. Can I be onboard with the vampire soldier camp just so we can win the war and I can be rid of my family already?**

 ** _Date_ _**

* * *

 **There was a rose with my lunch.**

 **Sitting on my tray with Bonnie shooting me meaningful looks. I don't know what he expects it to mean, if it's even from him.**

 **Note to self in next life: don't date an emotionally stunted one thousand year old vampire-werewolf. Communication problems are rife.**

 **Bonnie and I are getting so bored. We've exhausted every computer game, every game for friends and every conversation we can think of. I don't think I've ever known this much about anyone ever. Which is great but also yuck I hate this room's walls now. Is it a tasteful light green or did someone just puke all over the walls once and no amount of scrubbing removed it all?**

 **I'm getting Elena in here tomorrow.**

 **…And I ignored the rose.**

Caroline's eyes begin to drop closed but she fights to keep them open.

 ** _Date_ _**

* * *

 **Elena scored us some tequila and we played Never Have I Ever.**

 **Found out some things I never needed to know about Damon and Elena's sex life. It was fun, though. I got so drunk that for a while I completely forgot that my life was on the line and I was stuck in a tiny room with innocent people fighting a war for me.**

 **Bedtime.**

Caroline's almost persuaded by this to go to sleep but then she spots Klaus' name on the next page and finds herself continuing to read.

 ** _Date_ _**

* * *

 **Today was… pretty good.**

 **I woke up feeling gross and decided to have a long hot bath.**

 **I normally don't spend too long in the tiny bathroom but today I needed it. Anyway… Klaus finally showed up.**

 _She'd been in the water for about a half hour when there was a sharp rap on the door._

 _"What's up, Bon?"_

 _The reply was hesitant._

 _"It's me."_

 _Her eyes widened and for a second she had the urge to cover herself but she quickly fought it off. This was Klaus, for god's sake. It had just been way too long._

 _"Come in."_

 _She didn't feel as dumb anymore when she caught his expression as he saw her naked in the tub._

 _Clearly she wasn't the only one it had been too long for._

 _Blushing, she pulled some foam over to cover the important bits and he locked the door then approached._

 _"Bonnie mentioned you were in the bath."_

 _"Is she still watching that movie?"_

 _He nodded and they both looked everywhere but each other for a while before she let out a long breath._

 _"It's been a week, Klaus."_

 _"I've been busy," he said as if he were very well aware that explained nothing. "…You asked me to leave."_

 _"I never said to make it permanent."_

 _"Would you have wanted to see me?" he asked, sitting._

 _She pursed her lips at that then turned her head away, looking at the wall._

 _"So basically you stayed away because you're still doing it?"_

 _"Caroline, we need this," he explained. "They kill near a hundred of our people a day."_

 _Her neck snapped so that her eyes met his._

 _"What?"_

 _"You thought I was being superfluous?"_

 _She didn't answer, still in shock. Almost a hundred of the people on their side were dying_ per day _?_

 _"Every day is a struggle just to keep Reese's forces beyond the gates. Once they get in, they'll be in."_

 _"Klaus, how is this happening?"_

 _He rubbed a hand over his eyes. For the first time she noted how drained he looked._

 _"I have no idea, sweetheart. Once we send people out they don't come back in; we have no idea what the front is like. I've been considering going out myself – "_

 _"No."_

 _He looked up in surprise._

 _"I'll be fine, love."_

 _"I don't care. You're not going out there."_

 _He sighed. "Caroline –"_

 _"Klaus, I swear to god, if you leave this house, so will I."_

 _She realised her heart was beating wildly in her chest, so hard it actually hurt. There was a huge chunk of fear in her throat and she felt like she might cry._

 _"You're being irrational."_

 _"I'm being perfectly rational. You know what you told my family, about how they could be used for ransom? How quick do you think I'd hand myself over if they had you?"_

 _His eyes widened then he shook his head._

 _"I should hope you wouldn't."_

 _"_ Seconds _," she countered, holding his eyes as she moved closer. "However long it would take me to get from where I was to them."_

 _He opened his mouth to protest but she kissed him, darting her tongue straight into his mouth and his gasp turned into a moan as he put a hand in her neck to pull her closer._

 _When she was as close as she could get he dropped to his knees beside the bath and drew her right up against him. Her nipples puckered as the cold air hit them, followed by the roughness of his shirt._

 _"Oh," she whimpered against his lips then moved to his ear. "I need you."_

 _Before he could reply she started undoing the buttons on his shirt and he hesitated before taking it and his jacket off._

 _She gasped as her naked breasts touched his chest and immediately her hands darted down to his buckle._

 _"Caroline – " he started but she shook her head, knowing what he was going to say._

 _"Trust me," she started breathily, "those headphones are awesome – Bonnie can't hear me when I'm shouting right next to her."_

 _He smirked, clearly accepting her reasoning. "That's good to know, since you'll definitely be shouting."_

 _She laughed and watched as he stood to get rid of his jeans and underwear._

 _She held out her arms and he grinned back as he climbed in with her._

 _"Just don't get my hair wet," she warned._

 _He lowered into her arms, laying his body over hers, and she relished in the sensation._

 _He moved forward and she thought he was going to kiss her. She saw his sly smile a second too late. He pushed her down by her shoulders, wetting half her hair and face._

 _"Klaus!" she squealed._

 _Then he kissed her._

 **So, yeah. Pretty good.**

She doesn't know it, but Caroline falls asleep with a smile on her face.


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you thank you thank you for all the feedback! As usual, you guys are the reason this chapter is up right now. I know it's a short one, but I really wanted this chapter to stand on its own, especially as separated from the next one. Alright - lemme know what you think :)

* * *

The clock reads 11:18.

"Oh, shit!"

She hops out of bed, suddenly fully awake, and rushes into the bathroom before speeding into the kitchen.

There's a note on the fridge from her mother.

 _Tell me how it goes._

She racks her brain for where her mother might be then remembers the Senior Yoga classes and the Policeman Lectures she'd told her about.

She pours herself a glass of orange juice. The reason she's annoyed at herself for oversleeping is because the one thing she wants to do more than anything else is something she can't speed through.

Picking up the journal marked 2, she heads back to her bedroom then sits cross-legged on her bed and begins to read as she sips.

 ** _Date __**

 **Bored out of my freaking mind.**

 **Even Bonnie is. We debated how entertaining it would be to slit our wrists and watch ourselves bleed out. The maid walked in at that point and stared at us as if we were crazy and we felt appropriately ashamed of ourselves.**

 ** _Date __**

 **No Klaus. He sent movies instead.**

 **You know that mood where you don't feel like reading or watching anything or talking or eating or dancing or existing at all? I live there now.**

 **~~s~~O**

 **B~~o~~R~~e~~D~~**

 ** _Date __**

 **I actually like it.**

 **Bonnie had this amazing idea, as we both stared into the abyss of our bored souls, that we should change my hair.**

 _"Seriously? Bonnie, you know how much I love my long curls."_

 _"But how much fun would it be to do something crazy to it?" She pouted. "Come on, Caroline, we need this."_

 _Nibbling on her bottom lip, she stared at her best friend._

 _It would be cool to wake up every morning and be surprised by her own appearance; see something different for once._

 _"My aunt Linda is a hairstylist."_

 _"Yay!" Bonnie grinned. "I'm thinking Julianne Hough in Safe Haven."_

 _"As terrified as I am from taking hair advice from someone who's choosing a movie she watched_ yesterday _and is clearly going stir crazy…" Bonnie looked at her hopefully and she grinned. "I will say I love that idea."_

 _Bonnie jumped up and they began an impromptu dance party, high on just the idea of change._

 _She didn't let myself think about how something as silly as changing her hair was causing a dance party while not that far outside people were dying for her. Not then. She thought about it that night as she struggled to sleep._

 **Bonnie didn't think a cut was enough, though. And when aunt Linda was there holding the pink dye with a gleam in her eye, suddenly I was feeling just as crazy.**

 **It's kind of ombré now, going from blond to baby and then dark pink.**

 **I actually like it.**

Caroline almost smiles a little, thinking back to what she'd seen in the mirror when she'd first woken up. She'd been taken so much by surprise by everything – the coffin, the 'New York home'; the whole 2050 thing – and her hair had just added to the freakout.

But now that it's all falling into place she kind of regrets letting the stylists change her hair. She would've liked the chance to really appreciate it, knowing what she does now.

 ** _Date __**

 **I still totally love my hair; I feel like a rockstar.**

 **Every time I look in a mirror life feels even just a little fun again. I've given Bonnie so many hugs at this point that I'm pretty sure she hates me touching her now. It was an awesome idea.**

 **Next: Bonnie's hair.**

She turns the next page and notices there are some small spots of water damage, as if there had been crying over it. She's about to read when she notices the time.

"Crap."

Stuffing the book into her handbag, she speeds around her room, dressing.

She grabs the handbag before rushing out of the house, already a few minutes late for her meeting with Klaus.

* * *

He's even later.

When he does get there, ten minutes after she did, he casts a glance around the Grill, his gaze distasteful and uncomfortable all at once.

She's about to put on a polite smile but he doesn't look amicable at all, his shoulders stiff and his jaw clenched. It's the kind of posture that makes her surprised he even sits down.

Nevertheless, he does, though he looks primed to spring back up at any moment, his back not even touching the back of the booth.

"What do you want, Caroline?"

His words hit like a ton of ice blocks being dropped down her shirt and it's that disconcerting feeling again that she has no idea how to explain because she's shocked, yes, but she shouldn't feel as hurt as she does by his attitude.

"Um, I…" She takes a second to compose herself, clears her throat, then starts again. "Like I said on the phone, I thought maybe there was more we still had to say to each other."

"Such as?" His eyes bore into her.

It occurs to her that though she's never experienced the version of Klaus she has been reading about in the journals, she hasn't ever experienced an openly hostile Klaus either. He's always been gentlemanly and charming with her; flirty.

Annoyed by the change, she squares her shoulders and sits up straighter.

"If you didn't have anything to say, why did you come?"

For a second something flashes in his eyes, so quick that she fails to interpret it.

"You sounded as if you need to get more off your chest. Considering I'm leaving in an hour, I thought I would grant you the last opportunity for it."

Her chest goes into a strange sort of spasm.

"Leaving? In an _hour_?" is all she can manage.

"As you asked me to."

"Where to?"

He lets out a breath. "That's none of your concern."

She exhales long and hard, trying to ignore her hands trembling of their own accord.

"You're mad at me."

"Caroline, I'm really not in the mood to – "

"Well, tough. I'm not in the mood to deal with your butthurt attitude, but here I am."

He sits back, sullen but tamed, and watches her.

She mentally debates about what to say next then settles on something random.

"I've been reading my journals."

His eyes instantly widen, going wild, before he seems to remember something.

"You had them posted to your mother's house."

"They're helping me put a lot together – our life and that time."

"And what have you discovered?" he asks, recovering from her putdown and sitting up straight again. "Do you despise me even more?"

She hesitates. She doesn't know how it has changed the way she feels about him. All she knows is that they weren't lying, just like he hadn't lied. She _had_ loved him.

"I still don't understand," she admits. "Anything about us. I don't get how we went from me having a party about you desiccating in a coffin to being in love."

"And that's why I'm here?" he snaps. "To take you through our 'greatest hits'?"

She feels slapped and this time she knows exactly why.

She realises that that _was_ what she'd been expecting. She hadn't known it, but she had. And now that she does know it, she doesn't understand why he won't do it or even consider it.

Doesn't he want her back? Isn't she worth fighting for? Or was that only for when it meant blood and people's lives on the line?

He steeples his fingers. "If you want the recap of a soapy love story, rent The Vow," he snarls. "I may have forgotten what your abhorrence felt like, but I've received a lovely reminder of it, starting with you saying I revolt you and ending with you calling me a monster who stole your life. So, if you don't mind, Caroline, I have a life I was leading before you banged on that coffin, and I'd like to get back to it."

He's beginning to get up, sliding out of the booth, when she scoffs.

"Wow."

He freezes then slowly turns to look at her.

"What?"

"It's just funny because it's like the night of the Ball all over again. You lash out at someone who may care about you because you're convinced no one can love you and, worse, you've convinced yourself that you prefer it that way."

"Wrong!" he shouts, standing up. "You _did_ love me! And now you're sitting there looking at me as if none of it ever happened – do you understand what that feels like?!"

She jumps up too. "And how do _you_ think it feels to realise that you dated and loved a monster, and he turned you into the kind of person who would send innocent people out onto a battlefield for you; would let your own _friends_ die for you?"

He takes this in then nods, looking mutinous.

"And that's why I'm leaving," he says, his voice dangerously low. "It's not that you despise me all over again. It's that it's amplified by everything you _already know_ I'll do wrong. I haven't waited thirty-five years to watch the hate in your eyes multiply every time you look at me, Caroline. _I'm done_."

She wants to point out that she doesn't just know the wrong – she knows the right, too – but it's too late, he walks away.

Still, she finds herself hurtling forward, grabbing up his hand, and it causes him to stop dead in his tracks.

She feels a little tingle at their skin touching. This time it's the good kind. His hands feel so familiar and it makes no sense to her brain.

They both look at their hands, the way she's holding his determinedly, before he meets her eyes. Uncertainly; hopefully.

But she can't say anything, because once again her body had acted on its own. She has no idea why she's holding his hand or touching him at all.

And apparently he's terrific at studying her, because his hand slips from hers right before he speeds off, leaving the entire restaurant staring at her.


	6. Chapter 6

I'm back! First off thank you thank you to every one of you who helped with my T-shirt campaign and bought one. Love you guys sooooo much. I would love to see pics once they arrive!

Secondly, here is a chapter! I finally got done editing it all and had to get it up ASAP for you guys.

Love you guys.

x

* * *

She's crying.

In the most pathetic place ever, the back of a vintage Blu-Ray store. She doesn't even know what aisle she's in, that's how hard she's sobbing.

But the Grill had hardly been the place and she hadn't come in a car, so here will have to do.

 _I once asked you when you started falling for him. And then you said the Ball._

She doesn't know if that's true or not. She's terrified to think about it; interrogate herself.

And mostly she's so so scared that the Caroline of the journals, the person she'd been in the past, had.

And that's her problem.

She doesn't want to become that Caroline again, but she also desperately needs to understand that her in order to move forward.

And she isn't sure she can do the one without the other.

Dropping down into the corner, she grabs the journal out of her bag. The only thing she's sure she wants to do is read.

 ** __Date __**

 **God, if she doesn't make it. I don't know what I'll do.**

 _"Hey," she smiled, extra widely, her heart beating erratically in her chest._

 _He hadn't been by for a few days and she'd missed him._

 _He began to smile too before his eyes widened._

 _"Your hair."_

 _Grinning, she did a little twirl._

 _"What do you think?"_

 _He stared. "…It's different."_

 _She narrowed her eyes. "That's guy code for you hate it."_

 _Stepping closer, he chuckled._

 _"That's English for it's different."_

 _"Well then what do you think?"_

 _He took another look, seemingly considering, then wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her nearer._

 _"I like it. It suits you."_

 _"Really?"_

 _He raised a brow. "Would I lie to you?"_

 _She eyed him._

 _"I wouldn't put it past you."_

 _He gasped, offended, and she giggled, about to kiss him, when he suddenly pulled away. His eyes were wide as his head jerked in Bonnie's direction._

 _"What's wrong?"_

 _Making no reply, he sped the few steps to the bed._

 _Before Caroline had gone to open the door for him, Bonnie had been sitting on the bed with her knees up, texting._

 _Now she was sprawled backwards, her phone still half-held in her slack hand._

 _Caroline's breath dropped away and she officially began to panic when two of Klaus' fingers went to Bonnie's pulse._

 _"Bonnie?" she squeaked._

 _"There's a pulse but it's faint," Klaus said. Immediately he pulled his cell out and began dialling. "I need medical supplies. An IV and oxygen mask. Immediately," he barked, then ended the call just as fast._

 _"An IV?" she asked, bewildered._

 _He nodded. "Her skin is ice cold. She must have been overexerting herself with the spell."_

 _"Oh my god," she murmured._

 _"Don't worry, love."_

 _He said it, but he looked worried._

 _She tried to re-assure herself that it was just because this meant the spell might be down, but she knew him. She knew it was more than that._

 _He was worried that the spell would soon be gone completely and for good. Because Bonnie would be dead._

 _"Klaus, you have to save her."_

 _He seemed about to say something when someone knocked at the door._

 _In a flash he took the items he needed then returned to Bonnie's side._

 _"Come help me, love."_

 _Nodding jerkily, she went to stand next to him._

 _Her body seemed to follow instructions of its own accord – she was hardly aware of what she was doing as she passed him things and helped him set up the drip._

 _She tuned back in fully when he passed her the mask._

 _They swapped places and she swallowed before tenderly lifting the witch's head and applying the mask._

 _"What now?" she looked at the hybrid._

 _He looked at Bonnie helplessly then sighed._

 _"There's nothing more we can do."_

 _"Klaus." She shook her head. "That's not good enough."_

 _He drew a hand over his eyes. "I know."_

 _There was silence for a while, during which her worrying was all but audible, before he spoke._

 _"There's one way – "_

 _"What?" she immediately turned to him._

 _He sighed. "If we can find more witches to support the spell, it would take the pressure off Bonnie and possibly return her to good health."_

 _"Ok, where do we get witches from?"_

 _He winced. "I have no idea. The Quarter is full of them, of course, but getting them here likely won't be simple."_

 _Her stomach sank as she realised._

 _"Someone would have to fight their way out and then back in with them."_

 _"Correct."_

 _"Can't they just be helicoptered, too?"_

 _"Even if they'd agree to that, despite the danger it poses to their families, I don't see how they would agree to_ this. _People barely come out of their homes anymore because of the war. How will we convince witches to do so with no benefit to themselves?"_

 _Caroline drew a hand over her face, resisting the urge to cry in frustration._

 _She'd never before lamented not being able to compel witches, but right now was one of those moments. She'd do anything to save Bonnie._

 _"We have to at least try."_

 _He stared at her for a moment then nodded._

 _"I'll ask Rebekah if she will do this for me."_

 _"Rebekah's here? I thought when you called her she said she wanted nothing to do with any of this?"_

 _"It's been long enough that she began to feel left out, apparently. She fought her way inside and was able to give us some information about the front. However, as with Elijah, it's safer to keep her inside, so that information is now outdated."_

 _She nodded. Just like she would give herself up if any of her family got kidnapped, if Reese had witches on their side that could incapacitate Originals… she didn't even want to think about Klaus having to make that choice. So, as much as the Originals could turn the tide in this war, it was way too risky to send them out there._

 _Her and Klaus had never talked about it explicitly before, but she didn't need him to tell her that choosing between his siblings and her would not be a fun experience for anyone._

 _"But you'll send her out now?"_

 _"We don't have a choice."_

 _She was about to protest then pressed her lips together. Anything to save Bonnie._

 _She lowered her gaze and turned back around to stare at the witch. Without a word Klaus left the room._

 _She sat down next to her friend and took her hand in hers._

 _It scared Caroline that her skin was almost as cold as the vampire's._

 _"Bonnie, I'm gonna fix this. I'm so sorry, but I'm gonna fix this."_

A brand new round of tears had began and Caroline lets herself sob until she hears someone approach.

Quickly she stands and grabs the first movie she lays her hands on.

"Miss, are you ok?" the kid asks.

Weird, that she thinks of him as a kid. He doesn't look much older than her body does and than her brain feels. Weird.

"Yeah, um… this movie just makes me emotional."

He looks at the movie in her hands. She realises it's a slasher film.

"Err… whatever floats your boat. I'm up front if you want to pay."

He walks away and she hesitates. She doesn't actually want to buy this but she doesn't want to look like a thief, either.

Would her mother still have a Blu-Ray machine? Oh, who was she kidding, her mom had still had a VCR player twenty years after DVDs were invented.

Still, she doesn't want the slasher film.

She goes to a part of the store labelled 'Classics' and smiles when she finds one she wouldn't mind buying.

* * *

 ** __Date __**

 **Rebekah didn't come through.**

 **She went, but she said all the witches she talked to refused to come. Bonnie's the same.**

Caroline reads as she hands over her money then continues reading, leaving the store.

 ** __Date __**

 **Klaus wishes Kol were here.**

 _"He'd know what to do; he'd know witches."_

 _He looked so pained her hand tightened around his._

 _Their worry was a vicious cycle. He worried about the spell breaking as she worried about Bonnie's life. She worried about him worrying about Bonnie dying and he worried about her worrying._

 _"Stop torturing yourself."_

 _They were sitting beside each other watching Bonnie and he brought her knuckles up to his lips. At the gesture, something uncomfortable immediately tightened in her stomach._

 _He shifted a little._

 _"…Were you serious when you said that you would hand yourself over if they had me?"_

 _Her neck snapped to him._

 _"_ What _?"_

 _His grip tightened on her hand. "I just keep thinking that if I were out there – "_

 _"Klaus, no. That's dangerous."_

 _"Love, they can't even kill me."_

 _"How do you know that? They're creepy sorcerers who have a creepy way of becoming living immortal beings – who says they don't have other weird spells? I'm pretty sure that's why they have some advantage we can't figure out."_

 _He nodded quietly. They'd both been thinking it, but now it was finally out there._

 _She cleared her throat. "What else can we do?"_

 _He pinched the bridge of his nose._

 _"I don't know, sweetheart, I really don't. We can't even get a doctor in here because only_ Bonnie _has the ability to let anyone new in!"_

 _His voice rose at the end and he dropped her hand so he could rub his hands over his face._

 _She let out a breath._

 _"Is there some way we could stop the spell? What if we took her out of the room?"_

 _This time his neck snapped to face her, his expression a mask of outraged confusion._

 _"Why would we do that?"_

 _"To save her life? If the spell stops, it can't sap the life out of her anymore. Right?"_

 _"We can't afford to lose the spell."_

 _"And_ I _can't afford to lose_ her _! And if she dies, the spell falls anyway. And we don't_ need _the freaking spell every second of every day; not when it's killing her!"_

 _She jumped up, running her hands through her hair. It surprised her how little of it there was and then she remembered giggling with Bonnie as they'd had it cut off and coloured and she broke._

 _Klaus caught her as her knees buckled and she didn't fight against his hold, but instead of lifting them up he let them both sink to the floor. He wrapped his arms around her and she laid against his chest and sobbed._

 _"I told her I'd fix it."_

 _He held her tight._

"Caroline Forbes?"

Caroline shuts her journal with a bang, looking up.

A polite smile stutters onto her face.

"Do I know you?"

"April," the woman smiles, "April Young."

The woman is in her early fifties with short jet black hair and Caroline has no idea who she is.

"Umm…"

"We went to the same high school. I used to know Elena."

"…Oh."

She immediately bites her lip. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be insensitive. And _I'm sorry_ , about, you know, Elena."

"Right."

Condolences – exactly what she needs right now.

"So are you and Klaus back?"

"No."

She isn't even sure if the woman means back in Mystic Falls for good or back together as a couple, but the answer just stumbles from her lips.

April smiles. "I can't believe how young you still look."

"Vampirism does wonders for wrinkles."

She giggles and it annoys Caroline. Without a greeting she continues on.

"Nice to see you!" April calls.

Caroline cracks open the journal again. At some point the past had become so much more interesting than the present.

 ** __Date __**

 **Bonnie woke up!**

 **The first thing she asked was if I was ok and the second was if she could have a burger.**

 _"I will make you one myself."_

 _"Did we get a kitchen in here while I was out?"_

 _She tried to lift herself up but limply fell back down and Caroline leapt forward._

 _"Don't. Take it easy, seriously. We're going to get you tons of food and get your strength back up and then you're allowed to move."_

 _Bonnie cracked a smile then relaxed backwards._

 _"What happened?"_

 _Caroline swallowed guiltily._

 _"Klaus said the spell made you pass out."_

 _Immediately Bonnie tried sitting up again, frantic._

 _"Is it still up?!"_

 _"Yes, Bon, relax." She coaxed her into lying back down. "Don't worry about anything but you, ok? Do you think you can do that?"_

 _She smiled weakly. "Maybe for a little while."_

 _Caroline grinned back and Bonnie frowned._

 _"So if the spell is still up and it's what put me out – how am I awake?"_

 _Caroline opened her mouth then promptly shut it again. She actually had no idea how. She'd been so giddy at seeing Bonnie's eyes open that all other thought had flown out the window._

 _"Klaus?" she called._

 _It took a few moments before the door opened. His eyes immediately went to Bonnie and she noted how he didn't look surprised at all._

 _"Welcome back."_

 _She smiled but Caroline frowned as she took in the hybrid. He looked… pink._

 _She put on a nice face for Bonnie._

 _"Bon, one second."_

 _Then she literally dragged Klaus out of the room._

 _"Caroline – "_

 _"If you say one word about me stepping one foot out of that bedroom after I've been in there for a month, so help me god, I will set up tent on the staircase."_

 _His mouth shut and he glared. She glared right back._

 _"What did you do?"_

 _"Why does it matter? Bonnie's alright."_

 _"Tell me what you did," she folded her arms._

 _He sighed._

 _"We have four witches supporting the spell. They're in the study, right next door."_

 _"And how did you_ get _those witches, Klaus?"_

 _He looked sullen and she continued to glare until he broke._

 _"I left."_

 _"_ What _?"_

 _"You didn't even notice I was gone –"_

 _"Oh my god that's not even_ slightly _the point –"_

 _"I just went to them, threatened them, and brought them back."_

 _"Do you even understand that you lied to me and did exactly what we decided you_ weren't _gonna do?"_

 _He threw up his hands. "What was I supposed to do, sweetheart? She was dying and you – you were breaking!"_

 _She swallowed, stepping back. She didn't know what to say to that._

 _She looked away even as she felt him staring at her, and when she spoke again her voice sounded weird even to her._

 _"Why are you stained with blood?"_

 _His hands were pretty much all dark pink right down to his forearms, but his face was flecked with it too, and there were a few spots behind his ears._

 _"Quick shower," he explained, then, when she glared: "Bloodshed was needed. You know that."_

 _She re-folded her arms then, nodding mutely, turned on her heel to enter the bedroom again._

 _"Thank the other witches for me," she said softly._

 _Her foot had just crossed the threshold when he caught hold of her arm and pulled her back._

 _Automatically her lips met his and he kissed her back hard, her relief and worry meeting his assurance._

 _Her arms wrapped around his neck as his curled around her lower back._

 _Eventually she pulled back but stayed close._

 _"Thank you," she whispered against his lips. She kissed him lightly before drawing away to stare sternly at him. "_ Don't _do that again."_

 _He caressed her face and she closed her eyes, leaning in to his hand._

 _"Let's go arrange something for your friend to eat."_

 _She stepped back in surprise._

 _"Like in the_ kitchen _?"_

 _He chuckled. "Yes. Not to blow my own horn but I did some severe damage today. I doubt they'll be storming the house presently."_

 _She looked at him thoughtfully. For the first time she realised how debilitating not knowing had been for him. She'd thought he'd just kept her in the room because he was incredibly paranoid, but now she knew it was more than that._

 _This whole time he'd been fighting a blind war. Today he'd finally gotten a real look at it and actually had some idea of how safe she was._

 _Her heart warmed and she smiled, deciding to tease him._

 _"We're like those really old couples where just going out into the garden is a date."_

 _"The_ garden _? I think that's pushing it, love," he teased back, smirking._

 _She grinned, holding out her hand._

 _"Yes, Klaus, I will_ gladly _go to_ the kitchen _with you."_

 _Chuckling, he folded her hand into his and they began heading down the stairs._

 _"Don't get too excited about our kitchen date, though – I'm sure your family will descend."_

 _"Oh god, can I go back to my room?"_

 _They laughed._

She looks up and realises she's halfway there.

Stowing the journal, she speeds off to the Mikaelson mansion, hoping she's not too late.


	7. Chapter 7

Hey guys! So here's the next chapter. As a huge fan of POV changes and my bby Klaus, of course this had to happen. I really hope you guys like it. Please let me know if you did! Also keep in mind that Caroline doesn't and cannot know about Klaus' flashbacks in this. She never got to write about it in her diaries so only Klaus has these memories (it also skips ahead in time in regards to her diary entries, but that's in the nature of a POV change). I thiiiink it also answers one or two questions. Ok, hope you enjoy!

:)

* * *

 _"Don't look so worried."_

 _"Caroline –"_

 _"I'm_ kidding _."_

 _He shot her a look then leaned back against the wall again as she pulled a face._

 _"Although…"_

 _He glared and she laughed._

 _"You look like you're at a funeral!"_

 _"No, I look like I'm at a funeral waiting to happen. And, I'd like to point out, there is in fact a coffin in the next room."_

 _"Ooh, I hope you got me a cushy one."_

 _"You'll be too unconscious to notice."_

 _"Yeah, but I want my unconscious body to be comfortable."_

 _That made him crack a smile and she grinned._

 _"See? It's not that hard."_

 _"Love, those witches are about to perform a spell no one is sure is foolproof, with a long list of possible side-effects. And, even if everything goes without a hitch, we still don't know when you'll wake up."_

 _"Which is exactly why we should make the best of_ this _time," she smirked._

 _She took him by the lapels and leaned forward, creating their own little private space in the tiny room filled with witches._

 _"As logical as that is, it's difficult to execute."_

 _She rolled her eyes. "Why are you being so cynical? Not knowing how long I'm going to be asleep means I could wake up in a month or three days or five hours."_

 _"It's better to expect the worst and be pleasantly surprised than to expect better and be disappointed."_

 _"The optimistic view of pessimism?" she teased, and he rolled his eyes, albeit with a smile. "I think you need to focus on what's important here: I'm gonna be alive and this war is gonna be over and then we're gonna be together."_

 _He pressed his forehead into hers, trying to breathe normally._

 _"It's that simple?" he asked dryly._

 _"Don't make me smack you on the head."_

 _He chuckled a little at that and she curled all ten of her fingers into his hair determinedly._

 _"Say it," she ordered. "We're going to be together."_

 _"You've been watching too many Oprah re-runs in here."_

 _"_ Say it _," she glared._

 _"Let's not, and say we did."_

 _Her glare intensified._

 _"We're. Gonna. Be. Together."_

 _He let out a long sigh before nodding, letting the words in just enough to give him hope._

 _She was right. That would make it all worth it, no matter how long it took._

 _"We're going to be together."_

Klaus stares at the fire he made primarily in order to feel sorry for himself.

He finds his entire situation morbidly amusing: all humans ever want is to know their futures. But it's the worst possible feeling in the world.

With full knowledge of what it holds, he and Caroline are both disappointed with their possible futures – him because it won't happen again, and her because it had already happened.

And him – perhaps, too – bitter that it had become the past.

In some measure he supposes he'd been imagining that she would climb out of that coffin and they would continue on from the very second they'd said goodbye.

It had been stupid and juvenile and yet, it was what he'd been expecting.

And she'd been so bloody optimistic. Filling his head with the possibility of her memory loss being spotty, selective or partial. Saying that the sleep might not last long.

He'd hoped, and now all those silly hopes had been dashed because she'd slept for thirty-five goddamn years and lost even more memory than that.

He wants to hate her. He wants to hate her for then, he wants to hate her for now, he just wants to hate her. He wants to hate her so much that he can stop delaying leaving, and more than anything he wants to hate her so much that all the memories he now carries alone will no longer mean anything.

And she hates him for loving her, doesn't she? Well, he wants to hate her for making him love her.

He just wishes… he just wishes he knew how to hate her.

 _"Good," she smiled._

 _"We're ready for you," one of the witches said from behind her and she hesitated for a seconds before letting go of his hair._

 _He found himself grabbing her, holding her to him by her waist for another few seconds – before his brain caught up and he let her go again._

 _She shot him a last smile._

 _It was small and adorable and probably one he'd seen a hundred times before, but this time it burnt into his bones._

 _Then she turned away._

 _"Is it gonna hurt?"_

 _"You'll probably feel a little uncomfortable," Bonnie nodded._

 _"That's code for they have no idea," Klaus piped in with an acidic tone._

 _"Klaus, you're not allowed to use the 'code' thing."_

 _Miffed, he folded his arms and leaned back again._

 _He was in an awful mood. Along with the general Caroline problem, he was also stuck with a prickly dilemma. As much as he wanted Caroline to stay for as long as possible, he also knew the war downstairs needed defusing as quickly as possible. Reese's forces had gotten inside the gates._

 _"What's taking so long?" he growled at the witches._

 _They were all poring over a grimoire._

 _"We're just making sure; we don't wanna get anything wrong," one said._

 _He sighed. He couldn't very well argue with that logic. Unfortunately while they 'made sure', Caroline's friends' lives were in danger downstairs._

 _"Ok, lay down there," another instructed._

 _Caroline did, shooting him a heartwrenching smile. Heartwrenching because she looked positively excited and he had a pit in his gut._

 _"Do you have the stuff?" Bonnie asked._

 _He nodded and opened the duffel bag he'd brought along._

 _Inside was what looked like a wooden stake and a substance similar in look and consistency to blood. The stake was made out of some synthetic substance and the blood was mainly corn syrup – however, they were vital in making this entire act believable._

 _The witches all kneeled down around Caroline and Bonnie grinned down at the blonde._

 _"Ready to die, Caroline?"_

 _"Second time lucky?" she smiled back and they laughed a little._

 _Klaus stayed out of the way. Bonnie had already taken him through the process. The spell would be gradual, taking its time for the veins to work their way up to making Caroline resemble a dead vampire._

 _He would have his chance to say goodbye once they finished chanting._

Klaus jolts when there's a knock on the door.

He hasn't been to this house in years, who would possibly be visiting him here?

He speeds to the front door and rips it open then regrets it just as quickly.

"Caroline."

"You were wrong."

He stares at her.

The problem with Caroline, and really it is a problem, is that he's so goddamn attracted to the way she defies and challenges him. On an intellectual level he's drawn to the way she never bends to his will.

He's never been able to precisely figure out why, because it's never worked that way with anyone else he's encountered – but it works, just the same.

So how is he supposed to hate her when even her ire only draws him further in?

"I'm not in the mood," he snaps.

He needs to get rid of her, that's the only way.

She folds her arms. "You saved her life."

He steps back, surprised.

"Come in," he sighs.

Damn her.

He moves away as she steps past him.

She'd made him very aware of their physicality.

It was like the early days of their relationship all over again. Except now, instead of revelling in the places they would touch, he ensures it doesn't happen.

There's something worse about her repulsion this time around.

This time she knows he's touched her, intimately, that he's held her and tasted her. And she hates the very thought; hates that she can't take it back.

When she's around him it's as if she wishes she could tear her skin off just because he's touched it, and it aches to watch.

"I don't have long," he prompts, when she doesn't say anything else.

She's all bent out of shape, her posture all wrong. Her shoulders are hunched and her arms are folded – most of all he knows she hates the skin he's touched. She hates it so much that he begins to see his prints on her, too – like grubby paw marks – and he finds himself feeling shame for them.

Which is why he has to leave. He can't fight for her anymore, not when it's breaking him down along with everything he'd always believed about them.

He will have to re-calibrate his life; eradicate the allotted space he'd always kept for her, and fill it with memories instead. She wasn't coming with him, ever.

He can see that, even now, in her eyes and he doesn't understand why she's here. Why must she torture him?

"You saved Bonnie," she re-iterates. "Why?"

He stares at her for a second then turns on his heel to head back to the living room.

"Please leave."

Of course – _of course_ – she follows him instead, with a scoff.

"You can't actually expect me to believe this whole jerk act after what I've been reading."

He spins, furious. "Hilarious. First you tell me I'm nothing but a monster and now you want me to act like what, exactly, Prince Charming?"

She shrugs exaggeratedly. "That's exactly my problem. I don't know _who_ you are. Not after everything I've read." He opens his mouth to speak but she isn't done: "And that's what you were wrong about. I don't only know the bad. I know everything I wrote about." She takes a deep breath. "And almost an embarrassing amount of it is… what I felt about you."

He stares at her from across the room, sullen, and she sighs before taking several steps forward.

"Everything I'm reading about – it's like reading someone else's story. I don't feel it in my heart or recognise any of it." She inhales with difficulty. "But it _is_ still my story. And I can't just move on like none of it ever happened. I get if you can, but I can't go into my future without understanding my past."

"What are you saying?"

She's closer now, a few steps away.

"I'm saying that I owe it to myself, past and present, to understand how I became who I was. And from what I've read, I think a large part of that is you."

He sucks in a breath, but she isn't finished.

"So I think I owe it to both of us to get to know you." She hesitates. "If you'll stay."

She stops, waiting, and goddamn, he realises he's supposed to answer.

But he doesn't want to; doesn't want to have to make this choice.

He was finally ready to contemplate beginning to move on and now here she is, reeling him back in.

His mind whirrs.

"Are you going to say anything?" she prompts.

Damn her. Damn her and damn him for not being able to stop loving her.

He almost jolts again, remembering his last words to her.

Thirty-five years and he still remembers it all as if it had happened yesterday. He could still see her looking up at him, veins ascending toward her tear-filled eyes.

And he'd promised.

"I'll stay on one condition," he finally says.

Her eyes widen a little. "Ok…"

"You tell me why you touched me, at the Grill."

He watches the way she shifts uncomfortably; he can tell she hadn't expected that.

But he has to know.

Ever since climbing out of that coffin she'd been completely averse to touching him even minimally. She'd sat far away from him on the bench in their garden and hadn't let him help her up last night. Then today she'd willingly grabbed his hand and held it.

"I don't know," she finally breathes.

He sighs irritably. Of course – yet another thing she'd rather hide from him.

"No," she refutes his reaction. "It's not that I don't want to tell you – I really don't know."

With a frown he steps forward and she pulls a face.

"Ever since I woke up I've been seeing things differently and feeling them in a way that doesn't make sense to me. My body does things I don't give it permission to do… and that was one of them."

He speeds up to her.

"You're remembering?! Why didn't you tell me?"

She recoils. "It's not memories. It's more like, I don't know, instincts. It's like my body or subconscious remembers – I don't know."

He should leave. Nothing will come of this.

But his last words to her before she'd slipped into that coma jostle in his mind so loudly that his thousand year old instincts to run when things get difficult bear no competition.

"I'll stay."

"Really?"

Her face lights up and for a second he forgets it's not her – not the same Caroline with her rhetorical 'Really?' who would kiss him before he could answer, just in case he changed his mind.

"Thanks," she smiles.

He hesitates.

"How shall we do this?"

"Um…" she bites on her lip.

He can tell she hadn't really planned much more than rushing in here and convincing him to stay, and it makes him smile.

"I mean, it's not like we were just friends. So… I guess we could go on a date, or something. If you wanted to."

He steps forward with an intrigued frown.

"Are you asking me on a date?"

She blushes deeply and he smiles wider.

" _No_. I'm saying _you could ask me_ on a date."

He smirks and she rolls her eyes before spinning around and beginning to walk away.

"I'll pick you up at six."

"Seven," she counters, digging something out from her bag. "I have a movie to re-watch."

She holds it up and he chuckles, seeing the cover of The Vow.

"Better get your A-game ready; you're going up against Nicholas Sparks."

She winks at him over her shoulder and then she's gone and he's still chuckling.

Damn her. He loved her.

* * *

 _"Is that it?"_

 _"It's done," Bonnie nodded._

 _He looked at the blonde._

 _"How do you feel?"_

 _"Some pins and needles on my feet. Otherwise pretty normal," Caroline shrugged._

 _He felt his cellphone vibrate and answered it with a roll of his eyes._

 _"What is it, Damon?"_

 _"Just saw someone go inside the house."_

 _He cursed. "You're sure?"_

 _"Yeah."_

 _"Well bloody well go after them!"_

 _"Trying." Damon grunted then continued talking distractedly. "Look, just thought I'd warn you. Hurry up and kill your girlfriend."_

 _"It's already happening. We just need more time."_

 _"We'll try," Damon replied then ended the call._

 _Klaus cursed again before looking at the witches. Everyone was staring at him and he glared back, furious. If Reese's men got here while the spell was only halfway complete they'd know they'd attempted tricking them and Caroline would be paralysed, unable to defend herself._

 _"You lot," he pointed at the witches. "Out. Go to another room. They're inside and if they catch you with Caroline they'll suspect something untoward."_

 _"They're inside?" Bonnie asked._

 _He glared at the four witches. "Go!"_

 _They scurried up and out, and Klaus quickly grabbed up the duffel bag, squatting down beside Caroline._

 _"Are you now willing to admit the spell was a good idea?" she teased, and giggled when he glared._

 _He shook up the fake blood as Bonnie held up one of Caroline's hands. Tiny veins were beginning to feather and blacken across the back of her palm, thickening as they went._

 _"How long?" he asked her._

 _"Four minutes, give or take."_

 _He gritted his teeth as he began strategically applying the fake blood to Caroline's top._

 _"You know you're gonna have to sell this?" Caroline pointed out. "How good of an actor are you?"_

 _"Oh, trust me, love, no acting will be needed for my vengeful bloodthirst."_

 _She rolled her eyes. "You can only be angry afterwards. First you need to be sad. You just killed the woman you love, remember? Think Romeo and Juliet; Othello. No amount of fake blood is going to make them believe it if you don't seem upset enough."_

 _"She's right," Bonnie agreed._

 _Caroline grinned. "And_ then _you can kill them all."_

 _He tried to work up a smile but it failed and she met his eyes sincerely._

 _"For Marcel."_

 _He let out a breath, nodding. "For Marcel."_

 _He laid the stake on her chest, ready to be plunged in when the time came. He'd stab her only when the spell was complete; not before._

 _"So," she started, laying her hand on his, "I'd like to be all progressive and say you can move on, but just know that I will wake up and kill you both."_

 _He chuckled and Bonnie stood._

 _"I'll be back."_

 _She headed off to the bathroom and Caroline smiled knowingly at him._

 _"Time to say goodbye. Anything we wanna say that might make her cringe."_

 _"Shouldn't she say goodbye, too?"_

 _"I'm only gonna be gone three hours, remember?"_

 _"Ah, yes."_

 _They smiled at each other for a few moments before he dropped his forehead to hers, drawing in a deep breath._

 _"I don't want you to go."_

 _"I know." She sighed. "I don't wanna go."_

 _"Are you now willing to admit the spell was a bad idea?"_

 _She giggled and he folded her hand into his, gripping it tight. It was limp, ice cold and blue. He doubted she had feeling in it anymore._

 _She was leaving him._

 _"I think we should take bets on how long I'm gonna be gone for."_

 _He eyed her disapprovingly and she grinned._

 _"Twenty dollars says five years."_

 _"_ Five years _?" he fumed._

 _"What was that thing you said to me, about altering my perception of time?"_

 _He sighed heavily._

 _"Well I had to re-alter it after you… How am I supposed to spend five years without you?"_

 _She was opening her mouth to respond when Bonnie re-entered the room._

 _"Do you guys hear that?"_

 _Klaus frowned, directing his attention to sounds outside the room._

 _He could hear commotion on the ground floor – fighting, he realised._

 _"I suppose more than one got in."_

 _"Is there any way to make this go faster?" Caroline asked the witch._

 _She shook her head. "We're just gonna have to hope the others hold through for long enough."_

 _He held Caroline's hand even tighter. She couldn't feel it but he needed it._

 _Bonnie knelt by Caroline's head, opposite him._

 _"I'll see you when you wake up. Don't take too long, ok? I can only make myself live a little longer than a normal human."_

 _Caroline worked up a grin. "Of course not. We still need to do_ your _hair."_

 _Bonnie laughed and they shared a smile before she started to get up._

 _"Love you, Care."_

 _"I love you too, Bon. And thank you, so much."_

 _Bonnie grinned then shot a look at the hybrid._

 _"Just a little over a minute left."_

 _His heart began thumping when he heard fighting on the staircase. They were still a few floors down but he was beginning to panic._

 _"The door," he instructed, and she nodded._

 _With a twist of her wrist she locked the door then closed her eyes and held her hands up to it._

 _She was thickening the guarding spell temporarily. It would take all of her concentration and energy._

 _He looked back at Caroline and noted with a jolt that she was crying._

 _"What's wrong, love?"_

 _"…I can't feel my body."_

 _"Why didn't you say something?"_

 _"I knew it was gonna happen, it's not exactly a surprise."_

 _But she was crying even harder. Her chest would be wracking if she were able to move it; tears gushed from her eyes._

 _His hands jumped to her face._

 _"What's wrong, really? Tell me."_

 _She tried avoiding his eyes but finally met them._

 _"It's stupid."_

 _"_ Tell me."

 _She hesitated before sobbing out the two words._

 _"I'm scared."_

 _Ice cold panic rushed through his veins._

 _She wasn't supposed to be the one who doubted, that was him._

 _What had he done?_

 _"Of what?"_

 _She was sobbing so hard she could barely speak. She sniffed and took deep breaths, trying to get herself under control._

 _"That I'm only going to wake up in a few centuries and everything will be different and you will have grown tired of waiting and moved on."_

 _He shook his head, entirely perplexed by the words coming out of her mouth._

 _"That's not going to happen."_

 _"You think so now. But in six hundred years –"_

 _"It's not going to be that long," he refuted._

 _"But what if it is?"_

 _He was speechless; so surprised that when he did find words, the only thing that tumbled out of his mouth was a joke._

 _"Then it's a good thing I got you a very_ cushy _coffin."_

 _That made her smile a little, but he stopped breathing when he saw the veins creeping up along her chin._

 _"Klaus, don't stop loving me, please." She sucked in a laboured breath through lungs that barely still worked. "Please wait for me."_

 _He saw a tear drop onto her face and realised it was his own._

 _"You know I won't stop; I won't. I'll wait." They were both crying profusely as he lifted her head up onto his lap and into his arms. "However long it takes, Caroline."_

 _The veins were crawling up her nose and nearing her eyes, where the last few tears she was capable of shedding came from._

 _"I love you," she whispered, her voice box finally paralysing. "How…ever long it ta–"_

 _Her jaw hung slack._

 _He held her closer as he watched her stare at him with the last of her consciousness._

 _There was a rattling on the doorknob and with one last sob he picked up the stake and gently pierced it through her chest._

 _Then he drew her up closer to him, draping his chest over hers._

 _A ramming began on the door and he began to summon energy from the sound._

 _"Bonnie, go into the bathroom."_

 _"No," she refused._

 _"You're weak, they're going to take the door down, and it doesn't matter now, anyway."_

 _"It matters that I want to see and fight these jerks!"_

 _"You'll get yourself killed!" he growled. "They're human, you're useless against them!"_

 _Just then the door shattered then got sucked into nothingness._

 _He stared in astonishment at where the door, and the spell, used to be._

 _Within two seconds Reese and his men had flooded the room. Without a moment of hesitation one used his gadget to remove Bonnie's heart and she dropped to the floor, lifeless._

 _He glared at Reese with every single scrap of hatred in his eyes and Reese smirked back._

 _"A clever man would've known months ago he couldn't win."_

 _Then finally his eyes lowered and his jaw dropped as he saw the vampire, dead._

 _"No."_

 _There was no acting necessary. Both the vampire and the hybrid's faces were tear-stained, Klaus clearly distraught._

 _He moved a little so Caroline's chest, with the stake sticking out of it, and her face were clearly visible._

 _"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" Reese bellowed._

 _"Did you really think I'd let you take her heart?" Klaus growled._

 _"You fool! Now she's dead anyway!"_

 _"But not for you. Now your entire crusade is useless." More men began filing into the room and their faces all fell as they saw Caroline's dead body. "Everything each and every one of you has fought for for months is gone. The absurd spell your ancestors have been working on for centuries – gone."_

 _Reese's face crumbled and he dropped to his knees beside Caroline's body._

 _"No no no no no."_

 _"I would rather kill her myself then let you have her. And you know what else: she_ let _me do it. She told me to tell you to go screw yourself – right before I kill you."_

 _The man barely seemed to hear, he was rocking back and forth, and Klaus drew fury from his own words and the memory, remembering Caroline's hatred for this man and his followers. Combined to his, he would make it rain blood._

 _Gently he let Caroline's body down then sped to stand behind Reese._

 _He wanted to rip his head off, he wanted to pull his guts out; wanted to make it last as long and as painfully as possible._

 _But this was for Caroline._

 _He stuck his hand right through his chest, taking joy in the groans of pain Reese made._

 _There was damage to his spine and lungs from the force Klaus had used, but he'd been just careful enough to keep him alive for this part._

 _"I believe it was a beating heart you said you wanted? Coming right up."_

 _He relished the choking sound Reese made as he choked on his own blood and the warm squish of the man's heart in his hand. The human began to fall forward, but Klaus kicked him aside so he didn't touch Caroline._

 _He dropped his heart on top of his head before looking at the rest of his followers._

 _"Now, who's next?"_

 _First, the one who had taken Bonnie's heart. Then another and another and by the time they realised they should fight back half of them were dead. He snapped necks and dropped hearts before bodies had even hit the ground, murdering his way out into the hallway then downstairs until every single one was dead._

 _Then, soaked in blood, he went outside where the useless battle was still raging. Maniacal, he grinned. He was just getting started._

 _No acting necessary – his love was dead on her bedroom floor and it was all his fault. He slaughtered._


	8. Chapter 8

Hey, guys! So if you follow me on Tumblr you probably know that I was supposed to get this out last night. However, I was ten kinds of exhausted so I had to postpone. Also, you may know that this is going to be my last update for a while since my laptop has to go back in to the shop (SERIOUSLY DO NOT GET WINDOWS 10 IT WILL DESTROY YOUR DEVICE), likely for up to 21 days, during which I won't be able to write :(

I hope you guys will like this one! I've decided to split this date into three so let me know what you think so far!

xx

* * *

Caroline's checking her hair one last time when she hears Klaus' SUV pull up outside.

Immediately her heart starts thumping as a single thought dashes through her mind: _What am I doing?_

She'd tried not to think about it the whole time she was dressing, but now she can't ignore the question any longer. Mainly because the truth is: she has no idea. She has no idea what she'd been thinking besides that she couldn't let him leave.

She doesn't just need to know their story or know what had happened – she needs to know _him._ All the diaries tell her is that she'd been in love with him. She needs to know _why._

But can she can she do that without falling for him again?

Grabbing up her clutch, she pushes the thought out of her mind before speeding outside. Klaus is halfway from the car to her door and his eyebrows dart up.

"You look stunning."

"Thanks," she smiles, then eyes him.

"…What?"

"I guess I'm just wondering if I've worn this for you before."

" _For_ me?"

"Like on a date."

He hides a smile, badly, and speeds around to open her door for her. Huffing, she climbs in and is quickly joined by him.

He starts the car and as they drive she keeps sneaking looks at him.

She doesn't know how to start a real conversation with him and, even if she did, she can't stop looking at him, regardless.

She tries not to think about it too much. Instead, she lets her gaze traverse over his neck, strategically studded with a mole, as if God had specifically designed this man to tempt women to terrible fates.

She looks at his jawline on her next peek and realises that _fine_ , she is attracted to him. Genuinely, as in she can imagine having had a sexual relationship with this guy.

Something more, though? With feelings?

How had that happened?

 _That's what you're trying to find out. And, god, stop_ staring.

She looks away and concentrates very hard on her breathing.

Except she's looking again, a minute later, this time at his stubble.

She looks away when her cheeks are red, not half because it's occurred to her that he hasn't said anything about the fact that it's been about ten minutes with no talking, which means he likely noticed her staring.

"Uh, so…"

She nibbles on her lip. How does one start a normal conversation with a thousand-year-old hybrid?

Most of their interactions had been shouting, snark or flirting. At least the ones she remembers.

She files 'Conversations we had before we got together that I don't remember' away as a talking point for later. She probably shouldn't lead with it.

Except she doesn't come up with anything _to_ lead with, and he shoots her a look.

" _So_?"

Irrational annoyance rises up in her chest.

"You could help me out."

"Well I was going to say something earlier, but I thought it was probably politer to wait till you were done staring."

Her cheeks flush even redder. Desperately she casts about for something to say in response.

"Yeah, because you're just _super_ polite."

"I try, every now and then," he smirks, shooting her another look, and it makes her heart skip a beat.

Annoyed with his charm and her own body's reactions, she folds her arms.

"Well I don't know what to say."

"That's a first," he says, almost to himself.

She glares.

"Wow, this is the best date ever, starting with insults."

"Actually, it started with me saying you looked stunning. You're the one who began with insults. And I never said your talking was a bad thing."

She continues glaring, but it doesn't seem to affect him.

"Where are we going, anyway?" she mutters.

"That's a surprise."

"Have we gone there before?"

He hesitates. Then: "Yes."

She stares out the windshield, considering her options.

Telling him to turn around and take her back home is nearing the lead.

She bites at the inside of her cheek for a while, drowning in the silence, before she sighs heavily and finally addresses it.

"I don't know how to talk to you," she blurts.

He shoots her another look, concern in his eyes this time.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that it's weird. You know things about me that I don't remember telling you. And you remember me knowing a bunch about you, I'm guessing, but I actually know _literally nothing_ about you. And then there's the diaries, which is a whole separate issue."

"The diaries?"

"Yeah! I know things from them that I wouldn't know otherwise, and I don't know if that makes you uncomfortable, or you know what they say, or –"

"I never read them," he interjects, voice solemn.

She takes a deep breath.

"I don't know how to talk to you. Do we talk like I know the things I do from the diaries? Do we talk like you're a stranger? Do we talk like we shared a life together and I'm just missing it all? Do we talk like you're the villain who ruined my best friend's life and that's the only way I actually know you?"

His jaw clenches at the last option and he hesitates for a moment.

"You can talk to me however you feel comfortable."

She considers.

"Is it ok if I ask you questions about our life?"

Another hesitation.

"Yes."

She glances at him.

"What did we usually do on long car rides?"

He hides a smile and she realises he is terrible at it. Like, so bad.

It annoys her how adorable she finds it.

"We talked," he shrugs. "You played music sometimes. Too much Taylor Swift," he laughs lightly to himself.

"Oh my god! _Taylor_! Who is she dating now? Is she still famous?"

The smile he's wearing tells her he was prepared for these questions.

"Rather, I suppose. She went back to country music in her fifties and married some unknown."

That makes her laugh, if only because she feels like she knows the future, even if technically she is actually living in it.

"What else?"

"About Taylor?" he asks, confused.

"No," she rolls her eyes. "About us."

There's a short awkward moment during which she's conscious of the fact that he can probably hear her stomach flip.

She'd really just said _us._ As if they are a thing.

He takes a nervous little breath that he's probably hoping she won't notice.

"You held my hand." He looks at her from the side of his eye, waiting for a reaction. "Or placed yours on my leg."

She freezes, glancing at his hand involuntarily. Then she looks at his jean-clad leg and can imagine placing her hand on his thigh so easily that it almost feels like a memory.

It freaks her out so much that she shakes herself out of it and shifts her body so she can look out the window instead.

No more questions about the past, she decides.

 _Rather get to know him. That's safer._

"So what have you been doing? All this time? Except for killing people," she says, trying and failing to keep the judgement out of her tone.

"So Damon told you about that, did he."

There's disappointment in _his_ tone, and she isn't sure if it's because of her judgment, Damon spilling the beans, or her reaction to the leg thing.

"I'm surprised _you_ didn't."

"Why would I have given you anything else to disapprove of?"

He says it neutrally but it still causes her to face him again.

"Look," she starts off, swallowing nervously, "I know I should be grateful. And I guess I am… But all I can really think about is how many people you've killed."

He doesn't say anything and she looks away with a sigh.

"In general, you're a killer," she says quietly, not sure which of them she's speaking to. "I don't get how I ever got over that."

She realises too late how uncompromising that sounds; how cold. She wants to take it back immediately but struggles for the right words, and he speaks instead.

"Perhaps we should turn on the music, you can acquaint yourself with what's popular now."

He says it so smoothly that for a second she's not even sure he'd heard her. Then he clears his throat uncomfortably as he turns on the radio and she looks down at her hands, resolving not to look at him again for the rest of the trip.

Damn her for not telling him to turn around, before it was too late.

* * *

They sit down at their table and it's immediately awkward.

Not just because of their conversation in the car and the ensuing awkward silence, but because all at once realises she that she's on a date with Klaus. _Klaus Mikaelson_.

Why the hell had she ever thought, even in abstract, that this would be a good idea? Seriously. Someone should sit her down and force her to stop making bad decisions.

"Are you alright?"

She looks up.

"Oh. Um. Yeah. Just a bit uncomfortable." He frowns and she rushes to explain with what isn't totally a lie: "Nothing's familiar."

He nods understandingly but she intuitively knows he doesn't one hundred percent buy it.

"This is your menu."

He picks up what she had thought to be a glass placemat in front of her and hands it to her.

Tentatively she reaches a finger toward it. She almost jumps back and drops it when images and words appear, some images rising out of it like a digital pop-up book.

"If you rotate it, like this," he demonstrates, and she finds herself watching his fingers move over her menu, "it will show you images of the dish you're considering."

She smiles and doesn't know if it's because of this cool technology or how carefully he's explaining this to her, like it's of vital importance.

She deliberately meets his eyes with a genuine smile.

"Thanks."

He looks struck for a moment, like he doesn't know what to do with himself or her expression.

Eventually he decides to just look away. It makes her feel awful in a way she can't explain.

Quickly she looks back at her menu. There's a big red button in the corner that she guesses is to let the waiter know when they're ready to order.

She tries to focus on the food items, but her attention keeps getting distracted. By the newness she sees everywhere, mostly. The absurd fashion styles and the weird cellphones; hand signs and people smoking something in the restaurant that produces purple smoke.

But there's also Klaus. She watches the way he studies his menu intensely, noting how surprisingly good he is at avoiding eye contact despite the fact that her eyes must be burning a hole through his head.

And then there's also his profile – she resumes her staring from earlier until something else pulls her attention, but it keeps drifting back to his jaw, the soft curve of his ear or the kissable planes of his neck.

It's weird, knowing you were in love with someone – that you'd been _intimate_ with them, and not remembering any of it. She keeps trying to imagine it, but she can't. Instead what that knowledge brings is a strange sense of _Oh my god he's a man._ Not a monster or a villain, but an actual man, who by her own account had held her and kissed her, and she'd relished it all.

Before – thirty-eight years ago, before, she supposes – she'd recognised him as attractive. She'd also seen his humanity. Two separate things. Never the twain shall meet. Because in the back of her mind she knew, she now realises, that that would be dangerous for her.

And now here she sits, in the very crosshairs of the repercussions of that danger. _Damn you, Caroline. Couldn't you have kept it in your freaking pants?_

She forces her eyes away and back to her menu.

What is a date with the most powerful man in the world supposed to be like? If he'd slaughtered for you; been willing to give his life for you? If he'd waited for you?

If he loves you, and you'd shunned him?

"Klaus."

"Yes?"

It's been almost ten minutes since they sat down so she's pretty sure he has the menu down pat, but he still doesn't look up, so she looks away too.

"I hate this awkwardness."

"Yes," he agrees.

The answer is very stilted; something she would expect from his brother, not him. She wonders if Klaus is like Elijah when troubled by her.

She wonders why that question is very important to her.

"Are you mad?"

He doesn't answer and she nibbles on her lip.

"I didn't mean to offend you."

From the corner of her eye she catches a glimpse of a smile.

"You always mean to offend me."

A blush rises to her cheeks without her permission, and it takes her a second to work out that it's because he'd said that… flirtatiously.

She looks up reflexively and he's already looking at her, which for some reason makes her blush worse. She doesn't know, yet, what to make of all the ways he looks at her but this one, she feels, she wouldn't be incorrect in labelling… nostalgic.

Her body reacts differently than her mind. In her stomach butterflies spring to life, and she's still blushing. But something feels uncomfortable about the look; it doesn't sit well with her.

She plays it off, though, flipping her hair. Caroline Forbes is an expert conversation-changing-hair-flipper.

"I can't decide what to get."

He holds up his hands. "I'm not falling into that trap."

"What trap?"

"The one where you say that as if you would like me to order for you, and then you spend ten minutes afterward lecturing me about how you are perfectly capable of doing so yourself."

She laughs at that, because it sounds exactly like her. He laughs too at first, then stops very deliberately, like he's remembered to watch her instead of joining in.

It makes her stop. But the uncomfortable feeling is gone.

"Recommendations, then?"

"Seafood."

He watches her carefully as she pulls a face.

"I can't stand seafood."

He smiles a little and she feels dumb, realising he must've known she would say that.

"You can, here."

She stares at him for a few seconds, considering, before setting down her menu.

"Fine. I trust you."

He breaks out into a smile so adorable that, for just a second, she thinks _So that's how I loved you._

He presses the button on his menu and she shakes out of it.

The waiter comes, they place their order – she chooses the one seafood thing she remembers thinking looked kinda good between stares at his jawbone – and then they're left completely alone, without even the shielding of their high-tech menus.

"You said I could ask you questions," she begins.

He looks very intrigued by her, meeting her gaze head on as he leans forward, like he wishes he could be closer.

"Yes."

"Can I ask you things about now?"

He hesitates, and she's wondering why when he nods.

"If that's what you'd like to know about."

For now, it is. Though she's dying to know about their past, she is also here, living the present moment. And since she has no idea how to control her own mind or body, apparently, she wants to at least know what is going on inside his.

"What's the weirdest thing about this moment, right now, for you?"

It's a dangerous question, but what about any of this isn't dangerous?

It catches him by surprise. He inhales the tiniest of breaths through slightly parted lips as she waits patiently.

Then his eyes dart – from her eyes to her lips then down to her cleavage and hands before snapping back up.

"That I can't touch you."

Goosebumps rise on her arms and she hopes to god he can't see them.

She swallows, trying to ignore the coil of desire fighting to be allowed in her stomach in place of the butterflies.

 _Damn you, Past Caroline, and your stupid smut. I'm never reading it again._

She tries to play it off with a laugh, but it comes out as an awkward giggle and he looks amused.

"What?"

"I don't know," she lies, looking everywhere but him.

"What?" he asks again, with the confident tone of a man who always gets what he wants.

She glares, annoyed at being forced to answer, but does anyway.

"It's just that I can't be the way I am – or, used to be – with other guys on dates."

"And how is that?"

"I don't know."

He shoots her a look of displeasure but she doesn't cave and he changes his technique.

" _Why_ is that?"

She shrugs as she splutters then gestures at him in a way that conveys nothing, but somehow means something to her.

"You're just not like other guys."

A slow smiles starts on his lips, taking a good few seconds to result in dimples, before he reclines in his seat to stare at her.

"Which I _don't_ mean as a compliment," she adds, just to break his smugness.

"No," he smirks. "Of course not."

She nibbles on her lip, wondering how on earth she'd put herself in this situation. She'd actually preferred it when he was moody and mad at her to him looking like he knew some secret she didn't.

"You're disconcerting," she tries again. "The things you say…"

"Does it bother you that I want to touch you?"

She's glad to see that the smugness has disappeared – he looks more curious now, like it's a question that had been on his mind for a while.

She's not sure how to answer, though.

She clears her throat.

"You said you didn't read my journals?"

"No." He looks even more curious, leaning forward. "Why?"

She clears her throat again and considers her options. She could lie, but he'd see right through that. She could deflect, but that won't get them anywhere in the long run. Really, the only way to achieve what she wanted to get out of tonight, is to tell the truth.

"What bothers me is knowing what I think – or, thought – about you touching me."

A roguish grin breaks out on his face and she scoffs, rolling her eyes.

"And what is it you think now?"

She shifts. "…I thought I was supposed to be the one asking the questions?"

He spreads his hands. "I don't remember any such rule. Besides, the floor is still open to you. If, for example, you had a question about the _ways_ I touched you –"

She kicks him under the table when the waiter arrives, bearing their piping hot plates of food. She ignores his chuckling, trying hard to convince herself that her cheeks are only on fire because of the hot steam rising from her trout.

She smiles at the waiter as he leaves before shooting Klaus a glare, and he only laughs harder.

"For the record, love, I was talking about your hand."

"You so weren't."

"I was. But I enjoy that your mind went elsewhere."

"You enjoyed that? Really? I couldn't tell through all the smugness."

He ignores her, grinning.

"Of course, we didn't have any qualms getting up to no good in public places, so your sordid fantasy certainly wasn't unfounded."

She focuses on cutting into her vegetables, not on how she needs to shift because things between her legs have suddenly become… uncomfortable.

It makes her curious about something else: how many dates had it taken before she'd had sex with him?

She'd rather die than ask, though. And the embarrassment isn't even the half of it. She's also scared of the answer. Scared it might be _one._ Scared it might be _more than one._

Because, god, she's destined to fail either way, isn't she? Either she falls for him faster than she had before, or at the same pace – in other words, making the same mistakes all over again or actually managing to do worse.

…Wait. When had _Not at all_ stopped becoming an option?

The question quickly sends her into a mental spiral.

This is _not_ what she's supposed to be doing. Understand and move on – that's the task here; not falling for the big bad. But they're less than an hour in, and already this relationship – this relationship that is a big glaring mistake she's supposed to be learning how to avoid – is becoming inevitable in her mind.

That can't be.

"…Caroline?"

She looks up to meet his concerned gaze and it occurs to her once again that this man knows her way too damn well.

"Yeah?"

"What just happened?"

"Nothing."

He stares at her, anger bleeding into his eyes, before looking down at his plate and beginning to stab at something.

She scoffs. "So now you're mad at me again? Because I couldn't give you a good enough answer?"

"I don't like you lying to me," he says without looking at her, in a tone that is suspiciously neutral.

She folds her arms.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure I don't like many things you do."

He smiles but it's without humour.

"Yes."

Seriously? He's back to doing that again?

"God." She throws down her fork. "I hate this."

He looks up at the clink. She thinks it's because it made a significant amount of noise, but his eyes don't shift to survey the restaurant.

"This?"

"Yeah. This. Talking to you. Doing this."

"You're acting like a spoiled child," he says in that same artificial stable tone.

She laughs and it's mean.

"Wow. Hi, Pot. Any other colours you wanna call me today?"

He stares at her with hard eyes and she swears he's about to crack.

She's actually a little scared of how happy she is that she's managed to get to him, and she waits gleefully for a reaction.

"This was your idea."

"Yeah. And it sucked. I'm capable of admitting that. Now what?"

He continues to stare and she notices his chest rising and falling rapidly, like he really is doing everything in his power to rein himself in.

"Now we conform to being adults, I suppose."

She rolls her eyes as dramatically as possible.

She doesn't know why, but she desperately needs him to explode.

"Why do you keep doing that fake Robocop remain-calm voice? It's creepy. Do you think I don't know that inside you're boiling over?"

She sees him physically bite his tongue and it honestly feeds her glee. God, she can feel how out of control she is but she can't stop it. She wants to see him burst.

"I know about your epic temper so why don't you just stop pretending and let me see it? Why won't you shout at me, Klaus?!" she demands.

Suddenly he's behind her, and Caroline gasps when he speaks lowly into her ear.

"Because usually when we get like this, it ends with you spread wide open around my hips or your nails in my scalp, your thighs quaking around my tongue."


	9. Chapter 9

This is all thanks to you reviewers. I wrote this chapter the same night as the previous one but didn't have it edited yet. Thanks to the amazing reviews from you guys I decided to attempt other devices to get this edited so I could get it out. It sucked, so there may still be some errors, but here's it is :) Kudos to kjsama for guessing I was hiding a chapter ;) And a bunch of love to kcer4life (on tumblr, go follow her!) who makes the best gif reviews ever. Makes my week. So, yeah. I hope y'all enjoy. Please leave me a review if so, and say a prayer for me, I feel lost in this universe without my laptop :(

* * *

"Um."

She swallows.

What the hell can one say to that?

"Don't. Tempt. Me," he warns, his voice still husky.

"Ok," she squeaks, because it's genuinely all she can think of that doesn't end with Take me, please.

"Good."

He straightens then casually heads back to his side of the table as if nothing had just happened. As if she isn't gripping on to her fork with a deathly grip so she won't have to see herself shaking.

She's honestly so worked up that she considers going to the bathroom to take care of things herself. But he would no doubt hear her, and she intends on not embarrassing herself in at least one way today.

She realises, now that it's over and she failed, that one facet of her then-inexplicable need to make him explode had been wanting out.

If he'd shouted and treated her badly, that would've been it – she would've had a nice neat excuse to get out of all of this. That's Present Caroline's way of thinking, anyway.

Past Caroline, who seems to have an annoyingly strong presence in Present Caroline's body, thinks differently. She'd wanted Klaus riled up because it was the way they worked. She got angry. Then she had to get angrier - on purpose, to make him pay attention - then she made him angry, and then they fucked their brains out.

She knows that now. She feels it. Her body is confused and disappointed. That wasn't the way that was supposed to go, it seems to scream at her.

It takes her way too long to realise he's staring at her.

She clears her throat.

"That sounds like we sucked at handling conflict," she criticizes harshly, wanting to regain the upper hand in this conversation.

He shrugs. "I suppose old habits really do die hard."

She frowns. That means…

"We did that when we were dating?"

He looks at her for a moment, weighing her up, before leaning closer and pointing.

"You see that corner behind the maitre d'?"

She looks then nods.

The corner is tiny, only half-obscured from this angle.

"I was upset that you hadn't told me about the colleges you'd been looking at. I thought you planned on leaving me behind. You made me take you there."

The way he says take makes her know he doesn't mean bring or drag, and it sends a shiver down her spine.

"We were fully clothed. You bit on my ear and told me how many people would know, if they just looked over." Caroline finds it suddenly harder to breathe. "Then you told me I was coming with you – now, and to college."

She blushes, wanting to hide her face, but there isn't any point. He clearly knows more about her than she even thought.

He knows about the dirty side of her, the part that she doesn't like anyone to know about. The dark side that had been pulled to him magnetically since I fancy you.

"You used to have this car," he continues. "The seat went all the way back. After you'd packed up for college you decided to drive all the way there. I wasn't pleased about the arrangement. I quickly realised going by car had its advantages."

She wants to stop him – knows this is neither the time nor the place – but this is what she wanted, at the beginning of the night. She wanted their past. And this is as deep as it gets; as gritty and unpolished. She's scared if she makes him stop he'll never bring it up by himself again, and she sure as hell won't ever ask.

"When you got to your dormitory I'm honestly not sure who was more upset – me that you'd turned down my offer of an apartment nearby, or you, that I wouldn't set foot into the foul room." He smiles and it's sly. "I was cruel – I made you beg for it; agree to the apartment. When we arrived there you punished me accordingly on the brand new furniture."

She's so hot she can barely breathe, but she manages a question.

"I went to college?"

He laughs a little, but it seems more bitter than anything else.

"Yet another fight. You wanted to leave, to help your friends with some new life or death situation. I told you you were being ridiculous; that the impulse to go to college in itself had already been so, and now leaving it at the drop of a dime for your bloody friends was even more so."

"I'm guessing I didn't like that," she smiles, able to predict her reaction.

"No," he smiles too. "But you certainly liked me on my knees for you."

She shifts again, swallowing, as she desperately looks for a decent way to continue the conversation.

"…So I dropped out?"

"Technically, yes. But you were barely there three weeks."

She nods slowly, trying to take it all in. She wants to ask what the dilemma her friends had been in that could've possibly made her drop out – it doesn't sound like her at all – but she can't bring herself to ask. Half because none of it matters now really, does it, and half because he is staring at her expectantly.

"...So that's how we solved tension? By having sex?"

He seems amused. "We tend to create a sort of... tension that is only expelled that way, yes. But afterwards the debate still continues – our egos just seem to have left the room."

This makes sense – sounds right – to a part of her that she can't explain or describe, so she nods and doesn't say anything else.

"Ask me."

Her eyes flick up to his.

"Ask you what?"

"Whatever is bothering you. It's on the tip of your tongue."

"I don't want to," she says resolutely.

His gaze is steady in a way that is strangely comforting.

"I know you, Caroline. There is nothing you can or have to hide from me."

The way he says it is strong and confident but not arrogant or forceful. He states it lowly, like a fact of nature.

Trees make oxygen. The sky is blue. I know you, Caroline.

It unsettles her.

She sits up straighter in her seat, but looks away, her hands fiddling.

"Honestly, that's what's bothering me."

She can feel his eyes on her, trying to decode that, and she decides – what the hell?

"There's a part of me that… I'm not comfortable talking about or sharing, in any way, with anybody." She hesitates then plows ahead. "I guess I'm trying to figure out why that didn't count for you."

He sits back, watching her curiously.

"I'm not sure anyone aside from you can answer that question, love. But perhaps it's like you said – I'm not like other guys."

"No," she shakes her head, "you're really not."

He sits forward again and she meets his gaze, skittering over her features.

"That part of you you're so afraid of – it's what drives me crazy for you, Caroline. It's a spark and the way you won't bring it to the surface to meet oxygen, won't let it explode, is captivating. Frustrating," he smiles, "but captivating. I could taste it on your skin," he drawls, each word a breath. Then he grins. "But I loved the explosion even more."

She shakes her head almost automatically, trying to ignore that feeling returning.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

Gold dances through his eyes and she immediately doubts herself, but she won't admit to it.

He leans closer and on impulse she does, too, so that they're cheek to cheek and he can say what he does next like a secret.

"I know how much you wanted to touch yourself just now – so much so that you considered slinking off to the bathroom. I know you wanted to say my name with three fingers inside yourself and one hand around your breast. I know you wouldn't clean up because you love what I can smell on you."

A gasp leaves her lips because she hadn't known that – hadn't realised he could smell what she was trying to hide, and her cheeks go even redder than they have been at any point tonight, joining a deep ache between her legs. Her hands spread in front of her; nails biting into the tablecloth.

"I know because once you did just that, then called me in and had me take you from behind, hard enough that everyone in the main restaurant would know precisely what we were doing."

"Klaus," she murmurs, because the ache is so bad that she can't bear his words being only that anymore.

"Tell me you remember, love," he begs, the plea thick in his voice.

She draws back, as if snapped with an elastic band.

She doesn't know what her expression is, but by the way his face falls, she knows it can't be good. Her hands are still splayed and she uses them to push herself up, keeping her spine straight.

"We're done. Please take me home."

He opens his mouth to say something, protest perhaps, but she grabs up her purse and walks out the door.

* * *

Caroline paces outside, berating herself for not paying more attention to where they had been going.

If she'd seen all the turns he'd taken she would've run back home. Now, instead, she has to wait outside for him. And outside his car, which is extra annoying.

Like, who the hell even locks their car?

"Ugh!" she screams.

Two seconds later she hears a whoosh and turns around to see Klaus standing there, fuming.

She opens her mouth but he speaks first.

"You don't get to say that to me."

She stands stock still for a moment, not knowing what to make of him with his shoulders tense, pointing at her; his eyes hard.

"W-what?" she eventually manages.

"You don't get to say we're done and then just walk out," he clarifies, fury thick in his tone.

"We are," she says, clenching her jaw. "Unlock the doors."

He steps closer, anger so tightly coiled in his chest that she can almost see it.

"No. No. You made me stay, Caroline."

She scoffs. "That was your choice."

"As is this."

Look, I don't know what kind of domineering act you used to pull, but I'm not that Caroline. You don't get to push me around. Now open the damn doors or I'll make my own way home."

He glares at her, his jaw ticking, so hard she worries she may break. Then he slowly reaches into his pocket for his keys and the car beeps as it unlocks.

She shoots him a look of disgust then makes to pass him. She's scared he'll grab her or something, but she climbs back in without incident, then begins to nibble at her lip when he doesn't join her.

One minute turns into two and she's just about sure he's gone back inside to finish his dinner when she hears shoes against the tarmac and realises he's still out there, just standing there.

God, he's impossible.

She yanks the door open and leaves it yawning as she climbs back out.

"Are you going to drive or should I?"

He's just freaking standing there, staring off into the distance or something.

He says nothing and she shivers, the silence beginning to get to her. It's pitch black outside and they're alone in the parking lot.

Klaus seems to be – god, she doesn't even know – finding his zen or something? He stares off for a while then kicks at the ground; pinching the bridge of his nose before starting it all over again. She knows what he must be thinking: Why did I stay for her?

She says something mainly to stave off crying.

"If I have to call an Uber, just tell me."

He still doesn't say anything, though, and she sighs heavily. It was a stupid bluff because she doesn't have a phone and he probably knows as much.

She starts wondering how humiliating it would be to head back inside to ask the restaurant staff to call her a cab.

"I know you don't remember this, but you used to talk to me."

Her head snaps up, but he hasn't moved. There's no evidence that the low words had come from the man whose eyes create the only light in the dark.

She doesn't know what to say to that, so she doesn't say anything.

"About what bothered you. From the littlest things to the biggest. We used to talk through decisions for hours."

With her eyes on him she leans back against the SUV, a reluctant listener but one nonetheless.

"I told you from the beginning that I didn't like lies, so you never lied to me." He laughs nostalgically. "Unbearably so, sometimes."

The corner of her lips curve a little as she imagines all the blunt opinions she may have given him that he may have preferred not to have heard.

"You told me you didn't like secrets, and – well, I wasn't as good at obliging. I tried. But perhaps this is my punishment for not doing well enough."

He doesn't say anything else, letting the silence stretch, and she finally can't bear it any longer.

She clears her throat.

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't really know," he admits. "I just wish, whatever it is, it would be true instead of this bratty façade you've created to – to keep yourself safe from me."

At his words she lets out a big breath, a weight seeming to fall from her shoulders at the same time.

He's right. She's acting out just so she can get out of all of this the easy way. Everything about them scares her. Earlier today she'd decided to face the lion. Now, though, she wants to run the other way.

Still, it makes her cheeks burn to know that he knows. She feels ashamed that he knows how much of a coward she is.

"It's the way you look at me."

He inclines his head sharply, surprised, but he doesn't turn around; not even looking at her.

It makes it easier for her to continue.

"You look at me, and… you see her."

Now he turns, befuddlement all over his features.

"That's not –"

"Yes, it is. And I don't know how to fix it – I'm not sure there is a way. Because it just feels like you're waiting for her. That I'm not really the one you want." She wipes away tears quickly, annoyed that she's crying in front of him about this. "I know that it's different, in my mind, but all my heart feels is another guy waiting for something better to come around the corner."

He looks absolutely gobsmacked.

"Caroline," he starts breathlessly, but can't quite seem to work out how to finish.

"Tell me you don't want her back."

His mouth closes and she nods, unsurprised.

She starts to move away but he speaks.

"You are her. You're the one I want."

"No, I'm not! She was an explosion – I'm just a spark, remember."

She may as well have slapped him.

"That's… that's not what I meant."

She folds her arms insecurely, swallowing.

"I can't do this, Klaus. I thought I could, but I was wrong. You're just… waiting for her, and it hurts."

She looks down at the ground, not wanting to see his expression; not wanting to face her own confession. Why does it hurt so much that he doesn't want her?

"You're just trying to get her back, that's all this is. We're doing the same things. Her memories need to be my memories. I'll like the fish because she liked the goddamn fish."

Now she kicks at the ground, angry with herself and this entire situation.

Why had he had that stupid fucking spell cast on her in the first place? All of this could've been avoided. They could've fought; fought the battle to save her heart, instead of her lying in a box for decades, forgetting everything.

"I told her I would wait," he eventually says, quietly.

She lets out a little breath then lifts her head to meet his eyes.

"I know it sucks, seriously sucks; I know it's not fair. But you have to choose, Klaus. I get that you promised her – me – things, but she doesn't exist anymore. I'm all that's left and I really can't compromise on this: I need you to stop waiting for my memories to come back. Otherwise we are done. I can't do it. I can't survive in her shadow."

They stare at each other for the longest time and then she looks away, biting on her bottom lip hard.

She nods, accepting his silence as answer, before turning around to climb back into the car.

She supposes she really is destined to forever be the second choice.


	10. Chapter 10

Hey guys! I'm sooooo sorry this has taken forever. Life has been hectic af and this chapter took so much of me. I kept re-calculating it and re-deciding how I wanted things to go; changing my mind about dialogue and conversations etc. As you'll see this is a really important chapter so I just wanted to get everything perfect and combined with my busy and exhausting life, that ended up taking forever. I can't promise the next one won't take long too, as November seems set to be the most stressful month of this year, but I'm pretty sure it won't be _as long_. Anyway, hope you enjoy, please let me know :) Love you guys and apologies for any errors! I edited as quickly as possible so I could still get this out to you guys today.

* * *

It's a minute later that he climbs in beside her and the car pulls away.

She's focused on not crying and not speaking so it takes several minutes to realise that they're not heading back into town.

 _Oh my god, he's finally resorted to actually kidnapping me._

Her heart starts thumping erratically, instantly recalling: _Shh, it's okay, it's me. You're safe._

But she hadn't been. He'd sent her home, made her promise to stay there, then kidnapped her best friend and tried to kill her by draining her of blood.

Klaus is dangerous. Why had she let herself forget that?

"Where are you taking me?"

Her voice is shaky and it makes him glance over, but he doesn't answer.

Fear only roots itself more firmly in her stomach but then suddenly they start slowing down and she begins to take in her surroundings; cataloguing the road signs and trees to realise that's it's all familiar to her.

"Wait…"

But it's just a few seconds before they pull in to the parking lot, confirming her suspicions.

"Oh my god," she breathes, unable to take her eyes off the signage, even though she can feel his gaze on her.

Her body moves on its own, climbing out and nearing the entrance of the place she hadn't been to in years – over a decade's worth, if you're counting all the time she can't remember.

But the ice cream shop is still exactly the same. The neon lights; the staff with the funny pink and white hats.

It's all still the same as when her dad brought her here as a kid for extra good behaviour.

She touches the glass but suddenly a guy is behind it, turning around the Open sign.

He shrugs in apology and she's opening her mouth to ask him to wait when Klaus is suddenly beside her.

"Is that any way to treat a lady, mate?"

He shrugs again. "We're closed."

Klaus gets up close to the glass and she watches the teenager's pupils dilate.

"Not for us," he compels.

The guy heaves a sigh but duly lets them in. Klaus lets her go first and she enters with eyes wide, taking everything in.

It really is exactly the same; not a thing out of place or changed. Just over there is where her dad would place her before getting down to one knee and telling her she could have anything she wanted.

"What'll it be?" the guy asks, behind the counter.

She shakes out of the memory, blinking.

"Um… a banana split."

He shoots a quick glance at the Original behind her then shrugs, heading to the back to make her dessert.

It reminds her that Klaus is still behind her, practically still at the entrance, standing stiffly as he surveys the store.

She hesitates but then forces herself to approach, dragging her feet a little.

"So… I brought you here?"

It bothers her. In a way she feels betrayed by her past self. Who had given her the right to bring the Original Hybrid here?

Knowing the dark side of her was one thing – seeing her childhood was something completely different. Both made her vulnerable, but this unsettled her.

"No," he shakes his head. "You wanted to but never had the chance."

Her eyes narrow.

"Then how did you know about it?"

"You told me."

She feels strangely naked under his, very deliberate, gaze. Ten minutes of driving without a single glance and now he's laser-focused on her.

And she feels naked.

Not just because of the way he's staring but also because now she knows it's actually worse – she hadn't brought him here. She'd _told_ him about her _memories_ here; shared her life. Shared something that hurt; made her feel raw and exposed. Because this was the happiest place she associated with her father. Her father, whom she loved. Her father, whom she hadn't been good enough for.

She blinks, trying to shake off those feelings, too, but can't.

There is something between her and Klaus that she can't just get rid of.

Even if he leaves, he will always carry a part of her with him. And that had been the whole point of this – she has to know how much. He can't carry around more of her than she does. She has to know what he does. But somewhere along the line – between this afternoon and now – it had become much more than that. It had gotten to the point where she had become _jealous of herself._

And now it doesn't even matter, because she'd already ended them, hadn't she?

Suddenly a bolt shoots up her spine as she remembers her own words.

 _And it's like you're just trying to get her back. We're doing the same things. Her memories need to be my memories._

The significance hits her immediately and she's about to say something but her banana split is done and the guy calls out for her.

Her and Klaus share the gaze for a few seconds longer before she forces herself to breathe and blink then moves off.

 _"So I brought you here?"_

 _"No."_

Her heart is pounding, so she feels self-conscious when he appears right behind her and orders himself something.

 _You have to choose. I'm all that's left and I can't compromise on this: I need you to stop waiting for me to get my memories back. Otherwise we can't do this._

Their order is ready quickly and the guy sets it in front of them with two takeaway glasses, which Klaus stares at disdainfully. She hides a grin at that before gathering her stuff and heading to the soda fountain, where she gets Diet Pepsi because it's the only one she recognises. Klaus stares at the machine for a few seconds then gets water. She hides another smile.

They still don't speak as they head to one of the bright white plastic tables and, as they're sitting, she's officially had enough.

"So, do you like the place?"

He looks surprised by her speaking then reverts to a smirk as he finishes fumbling with his stuff and sets it down.

"I suppose it could be worse."

She cocks her head sarcastically. "Is that what counts for a compliment in 2050?"

That gets her a smile.

He shrugs a shoulder as he works at getting the lid off his sorbet.

"It's an ice cream store that hasn't changed for half a century. What do you expect me to say?"

"…Thank you."

He looks up in confusion. "Why would I say that?"

She smiles a little. "I meant me. I was saying thank you." She hesitates, then: "For choosing me."

Their eyes meet and she tries ridiculously hard not to blush as his eyes do that stare-into-the-depths-of-her-soul thing.

Quickly she looks away but, with the lightest of touches on her chin, he makes her look back at him.

"I'll always choose you, Caroline. As I always have. Never doubt that."

There's something hypnotic about the way he says it – maybe that, for once, she doesn't doubt what he's saying for even a second.

So she finds herself responding.

"I won't ever, again."

His finger lingers on her chin for a second longer beside the heat of his gaze, then he looks away, and she sighs with the loss of his warmth.

"…So I think we may have been going about this the wrong way."

He peers at her. "This?"

"Getting to know each other... Well – me getting to know… us both," she says slowly as she works it out in her mind.

He smirks, amused, but takes the bait.

"And how should we rather go about doing it?"

She quirks her eyebrow at his phrasing but he only stares at her – challenging her to point out the innuendo. She decides not to, but she's pretty sure her cheeks turn pink anyhow.

She gestures. "I want to know you; who you _are_ , you know?"

He's staring at her like he either very much doesn't know or really doesn't want to admit that he does.

She huffs. "Just the basic stuff. Stuff normal people know about each other. Sort of like if you were making a Tinder profile. Does Tinder still exist?"

"No, the newest craze is called Lobster, where people pick sexual partners based on images of their pets."

Her jaw falls open. "Seriously?"

"No."

She gasps at the deadpan then only gets more affronted when he grins evilly.

"You can't do that!" she yells, but they're both laughing as she tosses a serviette in his face and she's enjoying herself, she realises.

"So," she starts, digging out a scoop of her ice cream, "go."

He regards her.

"I've never made a Tinder profile before, Caroline."

"Just start with the basics, seriously," she rolls her eyes. At his blank stare: "How old are you?"

"One thousand and nearing-a-hundred."

"Ok, so… _Experienced._ "

He stares at her strangely and she rolls her eyes again.

"Nobody tells the _whole truth_."

He looks amused as he leans back in his chair.

"I have three siblings left, of five. One is an overbearing sister."

" _Part of a big family that hit a run of bad luck_."

His eyes gleam as he stares at her.

"I murdered my father and mother."

" _Complicated relationship with parents._ "

He lets out a laugh at that, then continues.

"I've been a vampire for far longer than I was ever human. However, I'm also a werewolf – and I revel in both those sides of myself."

She stills at that, trying to analyse what it is he's telling her.

A vampire for longer than he'd ever been human – is that supposed to somehow explain everything bad he'd done? All the lives he'd taken? His disconnect to humanity in general?

Is it bad that she's factoring it in?

She clears her throat.

" _Into some kink._ "

He chuckles fully at that before taking a sip of water.

For the umpteenth time tonight, she resumes her staring at him. It's like watching someone on candid camera, except this is somehow so different.

He always knows she's staring. She knows he wants her to; to take in all of him. But there's also something about the way he moves beneath her gaze, as if he has to act just right.

She wonders what it is. Her expectations? Does he think she'll spook if he makes the wrong move too quick? Is he afraid of scaring her by being too much of himself? What's he holding back? How much of the monster she'd heard about from her friends is part of the real him?

She wishes she could answer these question while staring at him.

Instead, what she gets is the undeniable proof that she likes this. She likes following him with her eyes, watching the way his neck ducks and hands move; the way his Adam's apple bobs as he sips and his long fingers release the glass.

"Um… what about… What about what you're looking for?"

He glances at her before looking back at his water.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you have to do like a few sentences on what you want from the relationship you're going to find."

He meets her eyes, then, sitting forward with his elbows on the table.

"I'm looking for someone to spend the next millennium with. Nothing too serious."

She grins. "Totally casual."

"Very."

He comes closer and for a second she thinks he's going to kiss her. Her eyes almost flutter but then he stops, and she feels the oddest sensation of disappointment bubble in her stomach.

She brushes it away with the excuse that Past Caroline is once again intruding.

"And this person you're looking for, what should they be like?"

His eyes bore deeper into her even as his lips turn up in a smirk. It's always intrigued her how his eyes are capable of being in such a different mood to the rest of his features.

"Someone intelligent, gorgeous; entirely irresistible. Her wit cuts razor-sharp and I'll dream about her glare. Also, preferably, she'll be suffering severe memory loss." He shrugs, mock-forlorn. "That's my type."

With a bursting giggle, she shoves him backwards and he's laughing too, which she's happy about because maybe he won't notice her deep blush.

"I don't think you're supposed to judge me," he teases.

"Shut up!" she rolls her eyes.

Still smiling, he eats some of his sorbet and she watches for a second before her stomach does a roll and forces her to speak – she has to know.

"You think I'm irresistible?"

He cocks his head a little, like he finds the question confusing, but doesn't hesitate in his answer.

"Of course."

"Hmm."

"Hmm?"

"…It's just that I'm learning a lot, tonight."

"So the Tinder tactic worked?"

She smiles. " _No_. That barely told me anything I didn't already know."

"Then what?"

She watches him carefully, trying to figure out how to phrase her response honestly.

"You know that side of me that I don't normally let people see?" He nods. "Well I'm starting to see sides to you, too, that I never knew existed."

He ducks his head, fidgeting, and she's not sure if it's out of insecurity or guardedness.

"And which sides are those?"

Desperately she mentally begs her cheeks not to heat up as she answers, remembering all the dirty things he'd said to her earlier.

"This really deep seductive side that's sexy in kind of a dark way. And…"

She bites her cheek as she remembers him screaming at her; pointing at her with fury in his eyes. There had been something about that…

 _You don't get to say we're done and then just walk out._

"I guess the way you didn't just let me get away with it."

It had been scary but also somehow thrilling – calling out to that darker side of her, she supposed, or maybe even Past Caroline reacting.

"Should I be offended you didn't think of me as sexy before?"

She was looking down too but now she looks up, to meet his smirk.

She's tempted to join in on the flirting but decides to answer it honestly instead.

"Before? I thought you were hot and dangerous and weirdly nice, considering everything I'd heard about you."

He looks amused. "I was enchanted by you."

"I thought it was weird. Flattering, but weird. Until you saved me, or tried to save me, that day with Alaric." Which, to her, is the day before yesterday. "Then I didn't know what to think."

His eyes are more serious, now, as he takes this in.

"You thanked me."

"I was shocked. You seemed to care so strongly about me being safe. I thought maybe… all of it had been serious, after all."

"…but?" he asks, taking the cue from her tone.

"But then you tried to kill my best friend. And I realised you'd just been building up my trust in you the whole time, so that when the time was right I would run home like a good little girl while you sacrificed Elena yet again."

He sits back with a heavy exhale, his face marred with horror.

Obviously, from the way their relationship had gone in the past, he had never considered that she'd interpreted it that way. Had he apologised to Past Caroline? Had he made up for it in some way; explained?

It can't matter for her, though. For her time had frozen, then, and that is all she remembers.

 _It's okay. It's okay, it's me. It's okay. You're safe._

 _We'll save Elena. You go straight home; you stay inside._

And then Tyler's call, telling her that Klaus had Elena and was draining her of all her blood. Followed by the rush of betrayal and self-hatred, for letting him get to her. _Goddamn, she was supposed to have been too smart to be seduced by him._

She watches as he, too, realises this. Makes sense of her – this Caroline.

 _I really don't want you here_

 _Please don't touch me_

 _I still don't understand. Anything about us. I don't get how we went from me having a party about you desiccating in a coffin to being in love_

 _And how do you think it feels to realise that you dated and loved a monster_

Their first conversation –

 _"Are we… together?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"…How does that make you feel?"_

 _"Confused. Disgusted – mostly confused."_

"I supposed I took for granted what came after," he breathes. "All the things you forgave me for; overlooked." He winces. "But now they're all fresh in your memory and you don't remember what came after."

"I'd like to know what came after," she says, softly.

He leans forward suddenly.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't know you remembered that day that way. I didn't know you'd felt that way." He takes a shaky breath. "You never told me."

It makes her smile a little.

"Then maybe we're both learning."

Now she knows he does want to kiss her – the way his glance darts down to her lips and lingers for the shortest of seconds before returning to her eyes with the air of a guilty boy.

So she guesses bittersweet moments were also a thing for them – was _anything_ not a sex cue with them? But then she can't help looking at his lips, too, and thinking _of course not._

But first –

"I'm sorry, too." To his frown: "This whole 'dating you' thing was based on a false pretence. At least it was different than how I probably made it come off. I wasn't doing it because I wanted us to get back together. I was doing it because I wanted an explanation. My journals couldn't tell me why I loved you and I needed to know. But also because… I wanted to know everything you knew about me. How much I'd… given myself to you, I guess."

He looks hurt – he almost winces again. But he says nothing.

Instead, his hand darts forward then quickly pulls back as, she assumes, he remembers not to touch her that way.

He wants to _comfort her_ , she realises.

"You're not mad?"

His jaw ticks and he struggles with himself, perhaps with the right words to respond, before he speaks.

"I assume you're telling me now because something has changed."

She opens her mouth to reply then closes it, catching sight of his hand on the table between them.

She's not sure where the certainty comes from that has her reach out – but wherever it's from, she likes it.

She places her hand atop his, a different kind of shiver running through her body than when he'd first touched her after she'd gotten out of the coffin. It seems to set her body alight, the way their skin meets – this time completely of her own accord, not some bodily reaction she has no way of explaining.

His eyes dart to hers and she can see him questioning just that – whether this is her, or Past Caroline's reflexes coming out to play again.

"Everything's changed," she assures, holding his deep blue eyes with hers. "I want you."

She can tell from his eyes – the way they widen with insecurity and need – that that's all she ever has to say. I want you – and he'll be there.

 _So that's how I loved you._

He hesitates but then his thumb comes up to caress the side of her hand and she feels more tingles jump down her arm and run down her spine.

God, she's so curious to know what his skin would feel like against hers elsewhere on her body. She thinks she might just explode.

 _If I'm the spark, maybe he's the oxygen,_ she thinks. _Maybe I need him, to explode. God, I want to._

With her free hand she lifts her glass.

"To new memories."

He picks up his water and, with their plastic glasses in the kitsch ice cream store he must hate to be having a first date in, they toast to their new beginning.


	11. Chapter 11

Happy New Year! Thank you for another year of putting up with me and my slow updates and thank you for another year of your amazing reviews that get me writing. I can feel that 2017 is gonna be a good one ;)

* * *

 _ **_Date_**_

 **I met the witches!**

 _"Bonnie, come_ on _."_

 _"No," she refused, with a shake of her head, folding her arms. "No way. You know how Klaus would react."_

 _She cocked a brow. "Since when are you scared of Klaus?"_

 _"I'm not_ scared _of him, I agree with him."_

 _Caroline huffed._

 _"So, to clarify, you two are totally cool with keeping me locked up like Hannibal Lecter?"_

 _Bonnie rolled her eyes from her spot atop the bed then eyed the blonde._

 _"Why are you suddenly so annoyed by him? I thought you two spent some quality time together yesterday?"_

 _With another huff, Caroline dropped into an armchair._

 _"We did…"_

 _"But?"_

 _"But I'm_ frustrated _, ok?!"_

 _"You two didn't…?"_

 _"No," she grimaced. "I thought we were going to. He took me to our bedroom and we cuddled for a while and kissed and then just when it was getting really steamy, Marcel interrupted with some apparently super important news and Klaus left."_

 _Bonnie looked sympathetic for a moment then shrugged._

 _"We_ are _fighting a_ war _."_

 _"I know. But that doesn't mean I have to be happy about it. And it definitely doesn't mean he gets to control my movements."_

 _"Caroline, you can't be rebellious because you're horny."_

 _"Seriously? I wanna go to the room next door, not fry up breakfast for the bad guys. I just wanna thank those witches. They saved my best friend's life."_

 _Bonnie's face softened._

 _"I know."_

 _"And I know that you've been dying to thank them, too. So let's just do it. Klaus isn't your boss and nor is he mine. We're free to go where we please, if you're in on it. Besides, how dangerous can it be to go into a room filled with witches_ protecting _me, escorted by another?"_

 _Bonnie inclined her head like she couldn't disagree with that and Caroline took the opportunity to play her trump card._

 _"Also, this way you won't have to be stuck alone in a room with me and my frustration."_

 _Immediately Bonnie hopped up, though not without a condition._

 _"_ You're _dealing with him when Klaus gets angry," she pointed a finger._

 _"Agreed," Caroline grinned._

 **God, it was so amazing to talk to other people. Girls our age! I mean, one of them wasn't particularly sociable, especially with a vampire she was being forced to protect, but the other three were pretty great. I guess they were becoming as bored as we were. Rosemary is my favourite, although she's not actually our age, she just looks it – she's forty-two years old and knows so much, which is awesome because she tells the best stories.**

 **And obviously Bonnie was right. Klaus was really mad.**

 **I listened to all his ranting then calmly told him I'll be visiting the witches again tomorrow and went and took a shower.**

 **Hey, yesterday he left me with blue balls. Fair is fair.**

* * *

"I had a great time."

"You did?" he questions seriously.

"Yeah," she nods, frowning at the suspicion in his tone.

"You didn't like your food," he points out, answering her unspoken question.

She shrugs. "Well, that's my fault for picking The Grill to go to, thinking that they would change any of their recipes after four decades."

He smiles. "Yes, that's the last time you get to select the restaurant."

She scoffs, pretending to take offence when really she's well aware that he's right.

"The cocktails were awesome, though."

"I surmised, with the way you were knocking them back."

"Alcohol is so much stronger in the future; how can I not take advantage of that?"

"No one could accuse you of not having done so."

With a soft smile his hand rises, his thumb brushing over the apple of her cheek, which she's sure is blood red. She feels a blush spread, worsening the situation, but it's only the lightest of brushes against her skin before his hand retracts.

She takes a breath, trying to shake it off.

"…Don't think I'm drunk."

He smirks. "No. Perhaps just a tad bit tipsy."

Realising she's still blushing way too much, she rolls her eyes animatedly before pushing open her door. A second later he's in front of her, helping her out before closing the car door behind her.

"Still a gentleman, huh?" she teases, letting him put a hand on her elbow.

"Always," he teases back, winking.

God. Is the point here to get her as flushed as humanly (vampirically?) possible?

Thanking her past self – well, her past self from a few hours ago, anyway – for choosing not to wear heels, she lets him guide her up the pathway to her front porch.

"…Do you wanna come in? My mom isn't home." His brow shoots up just as she almost chokes on her own spit. "NOT that there's any corollary between those two things. I just meant… you can come inside and my mom's not home. Two completely separate thoughts."

She wants to slap one of them for how amused he looks.

But he ducks his head before smiling back up at her.

"Unfortunately I can't. There are a few things I have to take care of."

Swallowing, she nods, trying really hard not to feel disappointed.

"Ok."

He watches her carefully then steps closer, close enough to make her gasp.

His lip brushes over her ear for the quickest of seconds, quick enough to be mistaken for accidental, and his hand goes to the small of her back; the touch more intimate than even the brush of his lip. His hand is warm and solid; his fingers spread out. The placement isn't one hundred percent decent and it makes her hold her breath.

It's impossible to prevent the words she'd read this morning from entering her mind: _He took me to our bedroom and we cuddled for a while and kissed and then just when it was getting really steamy…_

She shivers when he speaks.

"I'd like it if you could come over tonight, though."

"T-tonight?" she repeats, her throat dry.

He nods, his breath swirling over her collarbones, before pulling away.

She nods too, holding his eyes with hers without any real knowledge of what she's doing.

"I'll see you then," he smiles, dimples showing.

For fear of what she might say if she spoke, she doesn't say anything, opting instead to enter her house as he begins to head back to his SUV.

Inside, she leans back against the front door with a heavy breath.

God. She needs a cold shower. Maybe it'll clear her head, which she definitely needs.

She heads to her bedroom, fully preparing to collect her toiletries and another outfit, when she sees the journal, hastily discarded on her pillow. It had almost made her run late again.

She bites her lip for a second, pretending to hesitate, then shrugs with an eye roll.

She's too curious.

Settling on her stomach on her bed, she cracks it open to the next page.

 _ **_Date_**_

 **The witches came over to our room today.**

 **The more I get to know Rosemary, the more I like her. She's had such a full life. I guess I'm a bit jealous. Which I know is dumb considering we're both stuck in this house right now.**

 **Anyway. Klaus stormed in during one of her stories.**

 _He did a double take when he saw the witches inside the small room then growled._

 _"Out."_

 _They didn't move, though, and Caroline sized him up before nodding at the three witches. With various sighs they diligently got up and began leaving._

 _He regarded her._

 _"So they take their orders from you, now?"_

 _"No. They're my_ friends _– who_ don't _take orders from_ you _."_

 _He sighed, throwing up his hands. "Two days and suddenly they're your friends. I suppose it's a good thing I have you in here – you'd have turned the whole house against me by now."_

 _Normally that would have earned him a glare but instead she simply took a step closer to him before speaking._

 _"Bonnie, can you give us a few minutes?"_

 _"Sure."_

 _She hopped off the bed and made for the door but Klaus quickly got in her path. Wordlessly he blocked the room's only exit till she got the message._

 _With a heavy sigh, the witch pivoted._

 _"Guess I need to pee."_

 _"Seriously?" she raised a brow at Klaus as Bonnie closed the bathroom door._

 _"I need someone to be witness to my murder," he deadpanned._

 _Stifling a giggle, she moved even closer._

 _"I'm not mad." Lacing her arms around his neck, she curled her fingers into his hair, noting his look of surprise. "I just wanted to do this."_

 _She pressed her lips to his, softly at first then firmly, and his hands automatically went to her waist. His surprise quickly passing, he kissed her back, moving a hand to the nape of her neck and pulling her closer. His tongue swept over her lips but instead of deepening the kiss, he gently he pushed her away._

 _"I don't understand."_

 _"It's called a kiss."_

 _Unamused by her retort, he scowled, then aimed to clarify: "Normally this follows the argument; it doesn't replace it."_

 _She smiled sadly. "It's just that I realised the reason I've been so annoyed and, well, generally bitchy is because… I miss you."_

 _His eyes softened and he sighed._

 _"I know what you mean."_

 _"I know it's stupid –"_

 _He stopped her with a finger on her lip._

 _"I know what you mean."_

 _With a short breath she met his eyes and she could see he did._

 _She was contemplating kissing his finger or sucking it into her mouth but her gaze first shifted to the bathroom door as she thought of Bonnie and, like he could read her mind, he removed his finger._

 _She sighed. "We're never alone."_

 _"Marcel's interruption yesterday was ill-timed."_

 _She let out a breath of relief. He really did know exactly what she meant; felt the same way she did._

 _She made herself shrug. "I know it was important."_

 _"I'll make it up to you."_

 _"I know… Someday."_

 _He winced, a little, and she immediately felt bad. She hated that this war had become their entire lives._

 _"It's not always going to be like this, love."_

 _"I know. It just feels that way, sometimes." Her eyes lowered. "More than sometimes."_

 _He thumbed her chin then applied pressure, forcing her eyes back to his._

 _"This is my fault," he sighed. "I promised not to abandon you."_

 _"It's more than that."_

 _"But it's somewhere to start."_

 _She bit on the inside of her lip, not wanting to disagree. No way was she going to argue against him trying to spend more time with her._

 _"So you'll stay?"_

 _He met her eyes and again she felt sure they were sharing the same thought. It hadn't been all that long since graduation – and asking him if he'd stay was part of what she should've said to him that night; what he'd wanted her to say._

 _It hurt to think about the beginning, though. Just because they'd made it anyway didn't mean she didn't have her regrets._

 _Forcing herself to take a step back, she looked away._

 _"What did you come to tell me?"_

 _There was a moment of hesitation before he answered._

 _"Actually, it's precisely about Marcel's interruption."_

 _His tone made her look back up sharply._

 _"What's wrong?"_

 _He shifted, looking uncomfortable._

 _"Apparently Reese and his men took my actions yesterday as an act of war."_

 _"What was this before that, a tea party?"_

 _He smirked. "That's precisely what I said." They shared a smile before he continued: "However, it has caused them to do a proper job rallying their forces. Marcel came to tell me when it started – since, their group has grown by thirty percent, with possibly more on the way."_

 _Caroline folded her arms, thinking._

 _"Which, obviously, is terrible. But it also means we have all their backup troops in our reach."_

 _"You think like a sergeant," Klaus grinned. "And it was also Marcel's line of thinking."_

 _"But the only way for it to be an opportunity is if we're ready to increase our army, too." She eyed him. "Are we?"_

 _Beginning to pace, he sighed. "I've been overseeing the new recruits myself for the past few weeks and it's not terribly encouraging."_

 _"…But you have a plan?"_

 _He stopped._

 _"Marcel does."_

 _Seemingly reluctantly he met her eyes and she drew a sharp breath._

No.

 _That was her first response. But she couldn't voice it, not yet._

 _"He's going out there?"_

 _He nodded._

 _"And you're ok with that?"_

 _He shrugged. "Desperate times."_

 _"Klaus… I don't know."_

 _It felt wrong to think of Marcel going out there when the rest of them were staying safe inside. When the reason Rebekah or Elijah didn't go out was because it would mean Klaus going after them._

 _Sending Marcel out felt like them saying that he was expendable._

 _"It was his choice, Caroline."_

 _"He's my friend."_

 _"Precisely why it was his choice."_

 _"I won't let my friends die for me."_

 _"Caroline." He stepped close, his tone sombre. "You didn't want to let strangers, either. Unfortunately, someone has to be in the line of fire."_

 _She stared at him, perplexed. "Why are you pretending like this is no big deal; like he's not your friend or important to you?"_

 _"Because it was his idea. And, more significantly –_ you're _what's most important to me. Any sacrifice necessary is one I intend to make."_

 _Tears sprang to her eyes and she immediately turned around, confused by what she was feeling. Touched, yes, but that was becoming only the background – to guilt. How sweet could something really be when it meant the loss of hundreds of lives? How many people could she let him sacrifice for her, before it stopped being a gift and started being a burden?_

 _Now felt like about the time._

 _From behind her he put his hands on her arms._

 _"He knows what he's doing, Caroline." Then: "I didn't ask him for this."_

 _"You aren't making him not do it, either."_

 _He pressed his face into her hair with a sigh._

 _"Because it's my fault and I have to fix it."_

 _Hearing the steel in his tone, she blinked away the tears then put her hand atop his._

 _"No. It's ours." Turning, she met his look of surprise. "I won't let us regret saving Bonnie. You did what you had to do."_

 _He hesitated then nodded. Pulling her closer, he laid a kiss to her forehead as she held onto the lapels of his jacket._

 _"I want to thank him."_

 _"Of course."_

 _"Will you be here?"_

 _"I planned to, regardless." She looked up at him with a little sound of surprise and he smiled sweetly. "Not abandoning you, remember?"_

 _"I did, I just thought you'd forget about it again like you did last time," she teased._

 _He scoffed but before he could reply, a door opened behind him._

 _"Safe to come out yet?" Bonnie asked._

 _She shot Klaus a last grin then looked at Bonnie over his shoulder._

 _"Sure, Bon."_

 _She leaned against the door frame. "What's going on?"_

 _"Klaus is going to hang out with us."_

 _"Really?" Bonnie asked, the disbelief clear in her voice. "What are we going to do, exactly?"_

 _"How do you feel about a threesome?" Caroline replied._

 _Klaus seemed to choke on his own spit but Bonnie didn't miss a beat: "He's not my type."_

 _Caroline giggled and Klaus glared disapprovingly at them both before beginning to make his exit._

 _The blonde smirked. "Think he's mad about that or that it implies I_ am _your type?"_

 _"Well, we share a bed – what does he think we do every night?"_

 _Caroline kept laughing as Klaus scowled._

 _"I look forward to spending time with you ladies later," he said dryly._

 _They were both laughing as he closed the door behind him and Bonnie joined the blonde on the bed._

 _"Too much?"_

 _"Just enough to punish him for forcing you into the bathroom," Caroline nodded approvingly._

 _"You know me well," Bonnie grinned. "So, what did he come to say?"_

 **I told her. And it sucked.**

 **Later Marcel came by and it sucked even more. He didn't want any fanfare but it still felt like goodbye. He kept telling me that he would be fine, but there's this really bad feeling in the bottom of my stomach that nothing is going to be fine for a long time.**

 **I keep thinking of Klaus saying things won't be like this forever but every time I let myself believe it, I just think: what if that doesn't mean something good? What if all this just ends in a bloodbath; both sides depleted? What if I die anyway and it was all for nothing?**

 **Anyway. Klaus came too, as promised. He brought board games, snacks and booze, and it wasn't a bad night, overall. He let me cuddle into him as we played, even though Bonnie was there, and his touch made me forget, for a little while.**

 **But now he's gone, Bonnie's asleep, I'm about to turn off the light and I can't stop thinking of the way Marcel hugged me.**

 **It felt like it meant 'I'm doing this for you'.**

There's some more writing below that but it's crossed out and then there's some smudging, but nothing more on the diary entry for that day. It's as if she'd wanted to write more but couldn't seem to put her feelings into words.

Caroline sets the diary down with a frown. She's tired so she can't put too much thought into it, but it seems she was pretty close with this Marcel guy. From what she can tell, he'd been Klaus' friend first. And yet he'd been willing to sacrifice him.

Caroline turns onto her side with a sigh, wondering if he'd lived or not. She scans the pages again, illogically trying to find some clue as to the answer.

Instead her glance sticks on words that had caught her interest the first time too.

 **I asked him if he'd stay and, I can't explain it, but suddenly it felt like we were sharing the same thought. Like we were both thinking about how that was part of what I should've said that night, at graduation. What he'd wanted me to say.**

 **But neither of us said anything because it hurts to think about the beginning.**

She reads it over and over, wishing Past Caroline would've expanded.

 _The beginning._ That's exactly what she wants to know about now.

Desperately she searches the recesses of her mind for the memory referenced but, of course, comes up empty. Thankfully she's too sleepy and intoxicated to be properly exasperated with herself.

Instead, she just drifts off to sleep, those two words still on her mind.

 _The beginning._

* * *

 _"Let's get out of here before twelve angry hybrids decide to pick a fight."_

 _Caroline half-scoffed, half-laughed before, with a last look at the mortarboards, falling in stride alongside him. Without making eye contact she wrapped her arm through his elbow, still thinking about the kiss he'd laid on her cheek._

 _She could feel his eyes on her but didn't look back at him, feeling a blush spread._

 _"So I guess you're headed back to New Orleans now?" she asked, in the most neutral tone she could manage._

 _He was still looking at her, she could tell._

 _"Did you have something else in mind?" She was trying to figure out how to reply to that; trying to figure out how everyone would react if she showed up to their graduation party with Klaus, when he spoke again: "Yes. I saved Damon, saw you graduate and awarded you your gift. What else is there?"_

 _"I guess, since you never said goodbye, I just wasn't sure what the plan is – whether you ever plan on coming back. I mean, people said you were gone for good, but…"_

 _"You wanted to hear it from the horse's mouth?"_

 _Now she met his eyes, and found him looking at her curiously, like he really wanted to figure her out._

 _She sighed. "Never mind."_

 _Subtly he pulled her closer as they grew closer to the stadium's exit._

 _"…Speaking of the gift, I never thanked you."_

 _He smirked. "A thank you is possibly the last thing I want for that particular gift."_

 _She tried not to think too hard about what that meant._

 _"Or, probably, what you deserve," she pointed out, a fiery edge to her tone. "Tyler never should've been chased out of town to begin with."_

 _He seemed to suppress a sigh as he shot a quick look at her._

 _"You remember that night as well as I do."_

 _Again she felt her cheeks burn._

I know that you're in love with me.

 _"I remember some parts of it better than others." She looked at their linked arms wondrously. That Caroline never would've imagined that things would end up like this. "You walked away."_

 _She felt him stiffen._

 _"You didn't stop me."_

 _"You'd just vowed to chase my boyfriend to the ends of the earth for the crime of having his mother murdered by you – oh, and you'd stabbed me."_

 _"An abridged summary, to say the least."_

It was all for you, Caroline.

 _She stopped abruptly, pulling her arm from his – not roughly, but nevertheless firmly._

 _"I get it. And I'm glad you're letting him come back home."_

 _"Why are you making that sound like an accusation?"_

 _"Because I don't know what you want from me. Especially now."_

 _"Now?"_

 _"Now that you're in New Orleans and I'm here."_

 _She started walking again and he did too, seemingly reluctantly, boring holes into the side of her head._

 _"Does that bother you?"_

 _She forced a snort. "Of course not."_

 _"Then I was right about the plane ticket?"_

 _"Being overboard and crazy presumptuous?_ Yeah. _"_

 _He laughed fully, clearly enjoying her._

 _Then: "I meant that you wouldn't accept it."_

 _She took a few moments to breathe; to prepare them both for her answer. Then her pace slowed and she met his eyes._

 _"Yeah, you were right. I wouldn't have accepted it."_

 _Suddenly he was right in front of her, all traces of amusement gone; his features serious – the classic Klaus mood change._

 _"Would you ever?"_

 _She realised, all at once, that 'However long it takes' had been easy. The grand promise had felt so great – the fairytale-ness of it all had made sure of that._

 _But this was real._

 _The promise was a sweeping gesture; the Original hybrid in his confidence prime. This, though, was vulnerability and uncertainty (did she_ want _him to be her last?); the real Klaus._

 _She kind of liked it even better._

 _"…I don't know," she found herself answering honestly and watched him frown in… not surprise, but still disappointment. Maybe it was what prompted her to admit – "But I'm definitely not coming to New Orleans for you to woo me."_

 _"What does that mean?"_

 _She started walking ahead of him again, mainly to hide how afraid she was to say any of this. They were also a few steps away from her car now, which meant she could make a quick exit afterwards if needed._

 _"It means that generally people don't run after people so they'll chase them and I don't plan on bucking that trend."_

 _She cleared her throat then silently cursed when they reached her car and she was forced to stop and meet his eyes. He was watching her carefully and she tried hard not to blush._

 _"Is that meant to imply that the wooing I've done thus far is not sufficient?"_

 _She forced an extra-amused scoff._

 _"Not even close."_

 _He watched her._

 _"…Are you asking me to stay, Caroline?"_

 _She met his eyes for a second then looked away, off into the distance, and let out a breath._

 _"What if I were?"_

 _Quickly her gaze darted back to his, noting his eyes widen as he searched her face; searched for the appropriate way to respond._

 _"What about Tyler?" he eventually settled on, on an exhale._

 _"Just because I'm glad that Tyler gets to come back to his hometown doesn't mean my plan is to get back together with him." She bit on the inside of her cheek before elaborating. "A lot has changed since he left."_

 _She didn't say more; wouldn't dare provide any further hints that those things that had changed had mainly been between the two of them._

 _He said nothing, just stared, and she shifted uncertainly._

 _Where to from here?_

 _It hadn't escaped her that he hadn't agreed to staying._

 _The silence stretched and eventually she cleared her throat._

 _"You know, I'm glad you came today," she admitted almost reluctantly, biting her lip. "Not just for Damon… Mostly not because of Damon…"_

 _He smiled a little. "Are you, Caroline Forbes, saying that you're glad we spent time together today?"_

 _She rolled her eyes. "Seriously?"_

 _He shrugged. "I'm taking small victories, sweetheart. You'll recall that the bulk of our relationship has consisted of mostly insults from your side."_

 _She smiled, amused, but the truth was that her heart wasn't completely in it. Time was running out and he had yet to offer any indication of an answer._

 _They stared at each other for a few seconds, both waiting for something the other couldn't figure out._

 _Finally she nibbled on her lip then exhaled._

 _"I have to get going. There's a party." She hesitated. "Unless you want to come."_

 _She still wasn't sure anyone would really want him there, but she just wanted him to_ stay. _In any form that became._

 _He pulled a face. "Underage drinking, beer pong and reminiscing about high school? I'd rather not. Besides, I doubt your friends would be pleased at the intrusion."_

 _"They might not mind. You_ were _Team Us today," she joked._

 _But somehow she already knew it was a lost cause. There was something between them, something intangible, that told her he wasn't – coming, staying, agreeing; whatever. He_ wasn't _._

 _And she didn't know why but it made her bitter._

 _Oh, screw it. She did know why. He'd freaking promised to be her last and now here he was, already completely sucking at it._

 _Why was she never enough to stay for?_

 _Seeing something in her eyes, he stepped closer; but she stepped back, bumping against her car._

 _"Bye, Klaus." She attempted a grin. "…Guess I'll see you in my rearview mirror."_

 _He opened his mouth to say something then seemed to think better of it and opted for something else instead._

 _"Goodnight, Caroline."_

 _She waited for a second, not sure for what – another kiss, maybe, this time not on her cheek – but nothing happened and she met his eyes one last time before turning away._

 _Inside her car, she turned on the ignition and drove away, trying hard not to cry. He'd done nothing wrong, after all, nothing at all._

 _He'd just wanted her to ask. But she couldn't – why couldn't he get that? And why did she have to ask? Why couldn't he just stay?_

Guess I'll see you in my rearview mirror.

 _She'd said it to sound cool, like Indiana Jones or John McClane; like something inside wasn't breaking._

 _But in reality, she couldn't look in her rearview mirror. She couldn't bear to see him standing there, watching her drive away from him and them; from the moment that could've been if she'd just asked._

 _But, mostly, she couldn't bear to leave him behind._

Caroline wakes with a gasp, sitting straight up.

"Oh my god," she murmurs. "Oh my god."

What the _hell_ had that just been?


	12. Chapter 12

It's been like forever and three days? Guys, so sorry. Real life is consistently kicking my ass. BUT I managed to squeeze out some words recently and finished both this and the next chapter so it won't be that long until the next one. Sorry again and let me know if you enjoy!

xx

* * *

She tries to, logically, go through everything she remembers from the dream.

There's so much emotion left over, though, and she feels like she's shaking but she's not and nothing feels real because the dream is what felt _so_ _real._ She places her palms down on the duvet just to make sure she's here; so she has a grip on something tangible.

 _There was something between them, something intangible, that told her he wasn't – coming, staying, agreeing; whatever. He_ wasn't _._

She feels close to tears and she doesn't understand because these emotions aren't _hers._ She feels like she's choking and she realises that it's because she's terrified.

What's happening to her?

"M-mom?" she calls out.

There's no reply and she wants to worry because it's getting dark outside but there's already a pit in her stomach so instead she lays back down, trying to get control of her breathing.

As a last resort she closes her eyes, hoping that maybe she can just get back to the dream. If she can get back to it, lucid, then maybe it will start making sense.

But nothing comes back to her.

Instead she still feels the emotion from it rushing around her veins, trying to tell her something.

 _I know that you're in love with me._

 _His mother murdered by you – oh, and you'd stabbed me._

She presses her eyes closed tighter, trying to get away from the knowledge sitting in her stubborn throat, but it won't go away. The reason she's so terrified, the reason the emotion won't go away; the reason she can't just slip back into the dream.

Because it hadn't been a dream.

 _"Are you asking me to stay, Caroline?"_

 _"What if I were?"_

She could never explain it aloud but it _feels_ as if she's said those words; her body remembers them. The fear is another side effect of being trapped in a body that isn't completely her own. It knows things she doesn't and now her mind is in on the coup too.

She'd gotten back a memory.

The thought alone makes her want to break out into a cold sweat but she's a vampire and vampires don't do that, so instead she takes one last deep breath then forces herself back into motion.

Klaus had invited her over.

She doesn't want to pick apart the dream – memory; whatever. But as she's standing staring at her wardrobe she can't help it. It's almost harder _not_ to think about it.

 _"Besides, I doubt your friends would be pleased at the intrusion."_

 _"They might not mind. You_ were _Team Us today."_

He'd helped her friends? How? Why?

"Ugh!" she growls. "This _sucks_."

 _He'd freaking promised to be her last and now here he was, already completely sucking at it._

She's about to scream at her own brain to leave her alone when she freezes.

He'd promised to be her last? Her last _what_?

She stands like that for a few moments, trying to get at the memory that will answer that, but it's no use.

"Great. So the memories I _do_ want, those I'm not allowed to have. But the one I don't, you're just gonna keep forcing on me?!" she complains, wishing she could side-eye her brain.

Her gaze lands on her clothing, reminding her what she's supposed to be doing.

Going to see the one person who has all the answers she needs.

* * *

Caroline pulls up to the Mikaelson mansion with a frown.

It still seems as intimidating as ever, not least because of the last time she'd been here – after Klaus had told her he was leaving. She'd asked him to stay; not to give up on her.

 _"Are you asking me to stay, Caroline?"_

 _"What if I were?"_

"God," she mutters. "Stop!"

Grabbing up her purse like it had personally wronged her, she climbs out of the car then makes her way to the front door. She's momentarily perplexed by whether to ring the doorbell or knock then ends up doing both, feeling jittery.

Klaus opens the door with an amused smirk but his expression quickly sobers.

"What's wrong?"

"Um."

She bristles a little, not having expected him to have noticed right away. And now she's not sure if it's because he knows her that well or if it's actually written all over her face.

"Nothing," she attempts a smile.

He stares, seemingly working out some equation in his mind, then seems to concede.

"You'll tell me later."

She rolls her eyes at that but breathes a sigh of relief when he steps aside to let her in.

"Hi, by the way."

He laughs shortly. "Hello, Caroline. Can I take your coat?"

She's forgotten she's even wearing one but it's not just because of her dream dilemma anymore – he's also looking at her again, the heat of his gaze dancing on her skin and, dammit, she was supposed to have slept this off.

She clears her throat as she removes her coat.

"So I guess we're staying here, then?"

He nods simply, hanging her coat, then from behind her seems to prompt her to walk. She frowns but obliges, heading forward into the dark house; trying not to pay too much attention to his breath on her back.

"A few more steps."

Her frown deepens. "A few more steps to what?"

She's about to turn around to interrogate him properly when suddenly –

"SURPRISE!"

"Oh my god!"

The light switches on and it takes longer for her eyes to adjust to the number of people present than the sudden contrast.

"Oh my god."

A chorus of "Caroline!" breaks out and she slowly begins to realise that the insane amount of people is made up of her family. Like, the entirety of it.

"Oh. My. God."

Now she does spin to glare at Klaus as various aunts begin to make a beeline for her.

" _Why_?" she accuses.

He looks sheepish. "It was your mother's idea."

She opens her mouth to protest but suddenly she's being whisked off with wondrous comments about how she hasn't aged _a day_ and too quickly she loses sight of Klaus completely.

* * *

Klaus sighs for about the fiftieth time in the past half hour.

It's been almost double as long since he's even had a glimpse of Caroline and he's swiftly being reminded of the PTSD he'd suffered the last time he'd had to host Caroline's every living relative.

They're a rather busy clan, too; they've nearly tripled since.

The ballroom is packed to the rafters, as is the lounge, and there are even a few stragglers in the kitchen. It's taking significant willpower not to take one outside and have a nice long drink just to take the edge off.

Instead he takes a swig of his drink, trying his best to ignore the bustle of humanity in his home. These people are all here for her. That means he has to tolerate them. The problem is that he, too, is here for her and they are what he's gotten to deal with instead.

"Oh, Klaus!"

There's relief in the exclamation and he turns sceptically – not undeservedly. It's Caroline's great aunt Jacqueline, who is pushing 99 and should really just surrender to the afterlife at this point.

"Jacqueline," he forces a smile as she wobbles her way over to him. "Are you –"

"Where's the bathroom?"

He frowns for a second then answers with a sigh.

"It's –"

He breaks off, though, remembering the last time he'd directed her somewhere and proceeded to spend the next hour finding her in all sorts of rooms that were not the one he had directed her to.

"I'll show you."

He's learned not to expect a thank you, so immediately begins walking.

"Why is it you need such a big house, anyway?" He's opening his mouth to reply to this but she's already moving on: "My home was nowhere near this large and it had everything in it I ever needed – lived in it happily for forty-nine years. I'll tell you what else, too, my husband built it with his own two hands – what did you do, open the web and type in how many bedrooms you wanted?"

Klaus has never quite been able to work out whether she doesn't like him or if she's simply prickly with everyone, but he decides not to rise to her dig. He hasn't drank nearly enough.

"Then again, Caroline does like her pretty things."

She gives him a look like that's supposed to mean something, and he's just about to go back on his resolution not to rise to her insults when she moves swiftly on again.

"Where's that charming brother of yours?"

"Elijah," he grunts out, now mainly attempting to focus on his footsteps rather than how he'd very much like to alter her pace toward the afterlife to breakneck speed.

"Yes, Elijah."

"I wouldn't know, we haven't been in touch recently."

"Why is that?"

He grits his teeth. "Creative differences." He stops, pointing at a door. "The bathroom."

"Thank you, dear," she lays a shaky old hand on his arm that he makes an effort not to recoil from.

"Have you perhaps seen Caroline recently?"

She thinks about it.

"Near that unnecessarily large staircase, I believe. At least I think it was her – I haven't really _seen_ anything all that well for a good fifteen years. Speaking of which, keep a lookout for my teeth, would you?"

With that she disappears into the bathroom, Klaus staring after her in horror.

* * *

Jacqueline's tip leads him to _a_ blond Forbes.

"Liz," he greets, standing beside her, attempting to bury his irritation at the old woman's visual incompetence.

"Klaus," she smiles. "What do you think of my party?"

"It's fine."

"Fine as in the old-fashioned elegant, or fine like meh?"

"The latter." When she glares at him she reminds him of her daughter. He smirks. "You should leave the party-planning to Caroline."

"Well she couldn't very well organise her own surprise party, could she?"

He folds his arms. "Not least because she wouldn't have."

"Excuse me?"

"I think we're both aware that this is _not_ the way Caroline would choose to spend a Friday evening."

She smiles toothily. "Klaus, your job is to give my daughter everything she wants. _My job_ is to know what she'll want before even she does." He's about to protest but she continues: "Speaking of keeping Caroline happy, you can't be doing a very good job standing here talking to me, can you?"

He glares, which only makes her look more amused.

"I _would_ be at her side if only I could find it."

Liz attempts straightening up to get onto her toes and peruse the crowd which, considering she needs a walker just to get around, makes him smirk, but it quickly disappears with her answer.

"I swear she was here a minute ago."

"Fantastic," he sighs.

Her eyes still on the crowd, she lowers her tone.

"How are things going?"

He glances at her but she doesn't make eye contact and he diverts his gaze to the partygoers too. For the past few hours they'd been so busy getting the party together that the topic hadn't come up, and now he's not sure how to respond.

"…This afternoon went well."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning… things seem to be going well, but I've thought that before."

"You're scared."

"I'm not in control. And I don't know what she's thinking. Especially with those bloody diaries influencing her."

"For the better."

"For now."

Finally she looks at him.

"Are you worried about something you did back then?"

Yes. And there was also a fair amount of things he'd said that he wasn't proud of.

But it isn't only that – he doesn't know what will set her off. Like how last night he'd entirely unintentionally upset her; unearthed insecurities he hadn't anticipated being a problem.

"We both know I don't exactly have a blemish-free record."

"She knows that too."

"Yes and the first go around it already took time to understand the extent of that. Now –"

"Klaus, she woke up and you told her that you'd killed hundreds of people for her. I think she understands."

He fidgets. He knows technically that's true. But he can't help thinking that something is going to go wrong and he won't see it coming.

He can't be blindsided by losing her again.

"She's not going to run," Liz seems to read his mind.

They're quiet for the longest while, watching one of Caroline's relatives drunkenly tell a story about outrunning a dog. His listeners are just drunk enough to appreciate the seventieth telling of the tale and Klaus thinks of when Caroline had prepared him for meeting the cousin in question.

 _"He has this story about a dog chasing him thinking he was a burglar. I'm pretty sure it was just chasing because he was running, but the point is, you don't even have to listen to it. Just point out at some point that the thing could've had rabies and he'll love your cute serial killer ass, I promise."_

The memory stings.

"I miss her," he admits quietly.

He misses her knowing everything they had shared, yes, but it goes beyond even that. He misses touching her – really touching her. He misses holding her; her weight atop him. He'd waited thirty-five years with the knowledge that when she woke – whenever that would be – that he'd get to touch her again.

But, mostly, he misses the way she'd looked at him.

Having lived over a thousand years, he's confident in claiming that there is no feeling that matches up to being looked at by Caroline Forbes as if you were her whole world. As if you belonged to her. As if she loved you.

Liz shoots him a glance, sympathy tucked into the corners of it.

"I know."

Her frail old hand lands on his wrist and he tries to force himself out of thinking this way.

Caroline had asked him to choose and he had.

Her mother removes her hand. They've been friends long enough for her to know that the moment has passed and that that kind of vulnerability makes him uncomfortable.

"Go get us drinks," she announces.

"Get your own drink."

"Has anyone ever told you that you have no manners?"

"Yes. You. Every other week. However, it doesn't change the bar being right over there."

She laughs. "Have you noticed the walker?"

"I'm still convinced it's just for show," he teases. "I'm older than you."

"That explains why I'm so much better looking."

He chuckles then begins to head toward the bar and she grins, not unlike the way Caroline does when she gets her way.

"Merlot!" she calls after him.

Getting to the bar, he quickly thinks through the last call he'd had with her doctor.

"Take Liz a drink. Rosé spritzer – half a glass, then she's cut off. It interferes with her medicine."

"Yes, sir," the bartender nods.

"And pass the scotch."

With the bottle in hand, he heads off in a different direction. Clearly, finding Caroline is not in the cards, and without her the entire night is pointless. He may as well find a quiet room and wait for the storm to pass.

With a swig from the bottle, he pushes open the study door then recoils on instinct when he's met with vampire fangs and red eyes.

He's about to react when they simultaneously realise who the other is.

Caroline's vampire features disappear as her eyes round.

"Klaus! Thank god!" She takes a breath. "Please get me out of here."


	13. Chapter 13

Hope this was fast enough! As usual, it's all thanks to you awesome reviewers! Thank you for your thoughts and I look forward to more :)

xx

* * *

"…Alright."

She grins.

He puts down the bottle of scotch as she grabs her purse then slips between him and the door.

"How long had you been hiding in there for?"

She considers protesting it being called hiding then thinks better of it.

"Like fifteen minutes. Where are we going?"

He takes a moment to consider this. He must know, as she quickly found out, that the entire house is crawling with people. Like, she's pretty sure she's not even related to a quarter of them, since a whole bunch of them decided to bring dates and another fair amount of them she's never even met because they were born while she'd been in a magical coma. Which is really freaky, by the way.

Rationally she _understands_ that they'd been born sometime in the past thirty-eight years and then lived entire lives to bring them to this point, but to her it seems like middle-aged family members who are complete strangers to her had just sprung up overnight, and it's pretty damn trippy.

"We could try the garage."

"Ok," she nods eagerly.

Anything that gets her out. She'd tried the front door and the back door as well as the balcony, but none had proven to be effective as escape points.

She'd been regrouping in the study, trying to figure out how to find or get in contact with the Original so he could get her out.

"I suppose you weren't enjoying yourself, then," he notes as they walk.

"Um…" How does she explain it? "It wasn't bad, just really… overwhelming."

"Don't feel bad, love," he smirks, seeming to understand her not wanting to offend him. "I thought being immortal meant avoiding hell but clearly I was wrong, seeing as I'm living through it here tonight."

"Hey!" she elbows him half-heartedly. "That's my family."

"They're awful," he responds with a charming smile.

They'd both stopped walking and now they're just standing smiling at each other, her very aware of how casual touching him had become. It kind of scared her, but she was becoming used to it and… well, finding excuses to do it.

"I don't agree – but can you get me away from them?"

He chuckles and they begin winding through the house again.

Several family members give her caterpillar eyebrows as she passes by with Klaus and she rolls her eyes. Yeah, she _wishes_ she were sneaking off with him.

 _Wait, what?_

Suddenly Klaus swears and starts walking a lot faster. With a frown she rushes to keep up before almost colliding with him as he stops outside a bedroom door. He slams it open and her question dies on her lips because there, on what looks like his own bed, is one of her new cousins with his pants half undone on top of his topless girlfriend.

"Oh my god!" they both scream, looking horrified.

"Tell him to get out!" the girl screams.

"This is my bloody house!" Klaus yells.

"Hey, man, can you just give us a minute?" her cousin, whose name she thinks is Nate, asks.

"Let me ask you," Klaus begins, his tone low enough to give her goosebumps, "do you know what your colon tastes like?"

Both teenagers look at each other in confusion then shake their heads.

"No?"

"Would you like to?" he growls.

They're up and dressing so fast, Caroline could've mistaken them for vampires.

In twenty seconds flat they're moving past them at the door but Klaus grabs Nate and immediately begins compelling him.

"Seems you're out of something to do. Why don't you two go around every single room in the house and make sure no one has your same activity in mind, then start again?"

"Y-yes, sir," Nate agrees.

"Fantastic," Klaus smiles sadistically.

Finally he looks at her as the teens head away and Caroline can't help it, she bursts into giggles.

"You find that funny?"

"Totally."

He rolls his eyes. "Now you see what I mean. And that's to say nothing of Aunt Jacqueline's teeth, which I'm sure to come upon when least expecting it."

She bursts into even more laughter.

* * *

The garage was filled with people too so Klaus had smuggled her out of a secret door that led them into the garden then around to the front of the property.

He sighs as he surveys the parking situation outside his house.

"…I could _borrow_ one of their cars."

She shrugs. "Let's just walk."

He looks surprised but nods.

"Alright."

They trudge along for a minute or two as she takes deep breaths of the quiet air.

"Thanks for saving me," she eventually breaks the silence. "And for hosting the party. My mom must've done some real convincing."

"You had to have gotten the skill from somewhere," he teases, and she smiles.

"Seriously, though. Even without Aunt Jacky's teeth, I know that couldn't have been fun for you."

He shoots her a glance, a mix of curiosity and amusement in his eyes, before re-focusing on the road ahead.

"It wasn't exactly my idea of an evening well spent, no. But I thought it would be worth it if you enjoyed it."

She considers.

"…I didn't hate it. Actually, some of it was kinda nice. I guess I just didn't enjoy it as much as I probably could've because it wasn't what I was prepared for. I was expecting to spend the night with you."

She tries to resist meeting his glance she can feel on her, but it's pointless. Instead she attempts burying a blush as he smiles slowly.

"Well, here I am."

She forces herself to look away.

"Yeah." Suddenly remembering one of her conversations tonight, she gasps. "Hey, are you paying my mom's medical bills?"

He looks uncomfortable.

"Who told you that?"

"A cousin. I have a million of them now." He says nothing. "Well? Are you?"

He clears his throat.

"Yes."

Now she's the one to stave off a reply as he waits curiously.

"Does that upset you?"

"No. I'm…" She shrugs, trying and failing to find a descriptor. "Weirded out, I guess," she admits. "Maybe it's because the two of us still look the same, but before tonight it never really hit home how much time has passed. Suddenly I have 100% more family and everyone I did once know is _really_ old. And I guess I hadn't yet thought about who'd been taking care of things while I was in that coffin."

His voice is quiet. "It was the least I could do."

"I appreciate it."

It comes out more formal than she'd intended, like a business transaction, and he lets out a sharp breath almost involuntarily.

"What's wrong?"

He looks at her again then away, shaking his head.

"Nothing."

She stares.

"So I'm not allowed to hide things, but it's fine for you to?"

His jaw hardens and there's a coil of fear in her stomach for a second. It's tiny and fleeting, but it's there. She doesn't know how far is too far with him yet.

Before she'd never had to worry about accusing him of anything – well, short of putting her own life in danger. But now it's different. Now they're – sort of – together, and it feels like there's more on the line.

"It's nothing." He clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable. "Just something somebody said earlier."

"It upset you," she observes, frowning. "What did they say?"

She wishes she could describe the strange feeling that replaces the fear. Instead of a coil, it's a flurry.

Somewhere inside she knows he's hurting and – automatically, like a switch – she's panicked and hurting too. And she honestly doesn't know if all of it belongs to Past Caroline.

On impulse she slips her hand into his, her heart beating rapidly for the dumbest reason: she's terrified he'll pull away or look at her like he has no idea why she's touching him.

Instead he comes to a standstill, almost of his body's accord, as his eyes snap to where their hands meet; where his had immediately curled warmly around hers.

She swallows and grips tighter as his eyes finally meet hers.

She's insecure about the way he must hear her heart straining against her ribcage, but the look in his eyes sets her mind at rest. Still, he looks away almost as fast.

She makes a note for herself: _He doesn't trust you with his vulnerability yet._

"She asked about Elijah; where he is."

She frowns, her mind racing. She hadn't asked about the Originals upon first waking up and her diary hadn't made much mention about them either.

"Where _is_ he?"

"I don't know."

His answer is too fast, too rehearsed; too clipped.

She narrows her eyes. "You're _Klaus_. Of course you know."

He hesitates, literally rocking on his heels, before beginning to walk again and she goes along with it.

"He and my sister are in Cairo." He still doesn't look at her; his chin high.

" _Cairo_? What's he doing there?"

"Despairing about the misfortune he's had when it comes to a younger brother, I would imagine."

She frowns then, all at once, decides she's had enough.

"Klaus." She comes to a dead standstill, forcing him to either relinquish her hand or stop too; forcing him to make eye contact. He stops and their eyes meet. "What happened?"

He grits his teeth, trying to postpone the inevitable, but finally answers.

"He disagreed with my… methods while you were comatose."

She frowns, trying to decode that, before realising: "Killing everyone."

Watching her carefully, he nods.

"He understood all Reese's followers in New Orleans, but he didn't see the need for the murder of what he termed to be 'innocent descendants and acquaintances'."

"So he left?"

"He begged me not to follow through on my plan; maintained that it was extraneous. He said that if I intended to slaughter thousands in your name you would never forgive me and, worse, that it would cast a mark of shame on our family's name worse than ever before." He looks away, avoiding her eyes as his voice lowers. "That doing so would be worse than anything Mikael had ever done."

She sucks in a breath. She can only imagine how heated that must have become; how furious both brothers must have been. The things they'd both ended up saying. But she doesn't know how to address it.

"And Rebekah agreed?"

Bitter, he makes a hissing sound.

"We forced her to choose. And, as ever, it wasn't me she chose."

If she wasn't already holding his hand, she would've done so now anyway, she realises.

"I'm sorry."

He shakes his head, as if trying to erase the memory along with her apology.

"Don't be. I don't regret it."

"I wouldn't be mad if you did. I'd understand. They're your family."

"Which is exactly why they should've understood!" He curses under his breath, immediately regretting the outburst. "I mean – I don't. I don't. Now come on."

She opens her mouth to ask more questions but he pulls her away and she decides to take the hint: he doesn't want to talk about it anymore.

 _He doesn't trust you with his vulnerability yet._

And not just the soft part of him, either. His vulnerability is fury, as well, and he doesn't trust her to understand that yet. He doesn't want to scare her away.

What he doesn't know is that she does understand. And that's what scares her.

But there's something that scares her more – and now she has to address it.

She clears her throat.

"Klaus?"

Her tone seems to catch his interest. He glances at her with curiosity behind his eyes.

"Yes?"

"I… um, I was wondering – well, I've been thinking about graduation. That's what was bothering me earlier."

He looks surprised. "Graduation?"

"Yeah. Mine. I don't remember it, and I really want to know what it was like. Um – were you there?"

He's watching her now and she avoids eye contact, looking straight ahead at the road.

"I was."

"…Was it good; did I like it?"

He seems hesitant in his answer.

"The parts you planned for."

"…So something went wrong?"

 _Let's get out of here before twelve angry hybrids decide to pick a fight._

He laughs shortly. "To put it lightly."

She rolls her eyes. "Are you gonna give me any details or just keep implying things?"

He lets out a long breath.

"Well, you sent me an announcement –"

"I did?"

He side-eyes her. "I thought you wanted me to tell the story?"

She grins despite herself.

"Fine."

Smirking, he continues: "I arrived just in time to see you graduate. Then you went off stage, I heard screaming and… well, long story short, there were witches hurting you and I took care of it."

She frowns. "Why were they hurting me?"

His eyes widen a little, like he's just realised that he made a mistake, before he quickly looks away.

"Not just you. Elena and Stefan as well. You were just the only one I was concerned about."

 _You were Team Us today._

"So you killed them. Then what?"

He sighs. "Damon had been infected with werewolf poison. You asked me to heal him so I did."

 _You know, I'm glad you came today. Not just for Damon… Mostly not because of Damon._

Her eyes slip closed for a second. Damn.

As much as she'd known down to her bones that it had been a memory, she'd still been hoping otherwise. But now there was undeniable proof. Everything he was saying kept falling into place, matching what she'd witnessed.

"And then?"

He shuffles, seemingly procrastinating.

She's tempted to change the topic but she has to _know._ For sure.

"You were packing up – because of course the only person at that bloody school who cared enough to do it was the person whose life had been in danger that day – and I found you."

She stops. They're on the street in front of her house.

"What did you say?"

It takes him a second to notice she'd stopped, breaking from his reverie, and he smiles.

"I asked you what you'd like as your graduation gift."

She smiles a little. "I hope I said something practical for college. Like a mini fridge."

He chuckles, eyes sparkling.

"Something like that."

"What _had_ you gotten me?"

His expression goes serious, then, and he stares at her for a few moments before untangling their hands so he can walk away, making his way up her driveway.

With a frown, she follows.

"Your graduation announcement had come to New Orleans, Caroline. Where I'd been living for some time."

Her frown deepens. "I don't understand. You left Mystic Falls?" He'd left her? "Why?"

"New Orleans was an important place for me and my family once upon a time. I hoped I could rebuild that – especially since I no longer saw anything left here for me."

She hesitates, not wanting to say it, but then does anyway.

"Not even me?"

He turns, slowly, to face her. He tries to hide it but she can tell the question had wounded him.

"That's what I wanted to get you. A ticket to New Orleans."

"But you didn't…?"

"I decided to opt for something I knew you would accept." She stares back at him, waiting, and he sighs. "I said Tyler would be free to return to Mystic Falls; that I'd no longer chase after him as I'd promised to."

 _You'd just vowed to chase my boyfriend to the ends of the earth for the crime of having his mother murdered by you._

She steps closer to him.

"And then?"

She feels cheated. She wants to know what that moment had been, just before her dream had started.

He steps closer too, close like they'd been in the dream. Her breathing shallows as she focuses on his words.

"I made you a different promise."

"What was it?"

He searches her eyes, and he must not find what he'd been looking for, because he steps away. She blinks, already feeling something had shifted.

 _There was something between them, something intangible, that told her he wasn't – coming, staying, agreeing; whatever. He_ wasn't _._

"Then you left."

"Seriously!"

"It's not important, now."

"Neither is any of the other stories you've told me about us."

"Yes, they were."

"Then so is this."

He glares at her and she folds her arms with a huff, not giving in. Except neither does he and after a minute of their stalemate he smiles a little.

"Unfortunately, love, you're going to have to learn that I'm very good at keeping secrets."

She glares at him some more, for good measure, but he looks pretty comfortable under it so she switches tactics.

"So I just left? Just like that?"

Again he shuffles.

"Not exactly."

"No, no way. This you're telling me."

"Alright." He sighs. "We got into an argument. Or arrived at an impasse, rather."

"Why?"

It takes him a second before he meets her eyes but when he does it almost causes her to take a step back.

"It was time I left; return to New Orleans. You seemed reluctant to see me go but I wanted more. I wanted you to _ask_ me to stay. The most you would do was _imply_ you didn't want me to leave."

"Why did _you_ want to leave?" she asks, as confused as she'd felt in the dream.

"I didn't have a life here anymore, Caroline," he points out, with as much vigour behind it as if it were his argument to put forth in the present. "My home was in New Orleans."

He stares at her helplessly, like he's hoping maybe this time she'll understand. But she doesn't. Instead she tries to shake off the disappointment, clearing her throat.

"Anyway. So you left?"

He watches her.

"You didn't ask me to stay."

Maybe it's her disappointment mixing in with it, but suddenly all the emotions from the dream seem to come rushing back.

"God! Seriously? You really don't get it?"

"What?"

"I didn't ask because I couldn't!"

He frowns. "I don't understand."

She steps closer, meeting his eyes.

"I couldn't ask because you had to choose for yourself. I didn't want you to stay because I'd asked, I needed you to stay because you _wanted to stay_."

Something dawns in his eyes, something more than just realisation, and he looks about to say something, his lips parting, but stops at the last moment. She wants to ask why but realises: she isn't the Caroline he wants to say it to.

And with that she realises: she isn't that Caroline, which means – _shit,_ she's not supposed to know all that.

"Um," she clears her throat, "I would imagine."

He stares at her for a moment longer then steps back a little, mystified.

"You never told me that."

She folds her arms. "Seems like she didn't tell you a lot of things. Guess you're not the only one who can keep a secret."

It takes a second but that makes him smirk and shake his head slowly.

Then: "To answer your question: no. I didn't leave."

Her eyes widen because wait, what?

"You didn't?"

"No."

"Why not?"

He moves closer, his eyes steadily holding hers.

"You were here."

That takes her breath away for a second but the obvious question immediately follows: she'd been here when he'd moved to New Orleans, yet he still had – so what had changed that night?

"So what happened then?"

Hesitating, he looks away – to the front door – then back at her.

"How about I tell you inside?"

It suddenly hits her that they've been talking outside her own house for ages and she hadn't invited him in. But she also really can't invite him in.

"Um."

He cocks his head like she's a puzzle.

"This afternoon I'm invited in and this evening I'm categorically not – what's changed? Beside the copious amounts of alcohol, that is."

He smiles, amused, when she blushes.

"I told you that it didn't mean what it seemed like it meant and…" She hesitates, shuffling. "Now it's night and I don't want it to…. to seem even more so," she finishes inelegantly.

Immediately all amusement vanishes from his expression, replaced instantly by worry. With a frown he takes another step forward.

"Caroline." His hand drifts down to hers, his thumb whispering over her skin. "I hope you know I would never pressure you into doing anything you don't want to do."

She swallows, looking up and meeting his eyes.

"I know."

He raises a brow.

"Do you?"

She swallows again, wanting to move away, but his hand is still near hers and for some reason she doesn't want to leave the warmth of it.

She'd missed it since he'd let go of her.

"…Y-yeah." He's still staring and she feels pressured to speak: "Um… you _can_ come inside, if you want to."

He smiles but there's no joy behind it. "No. I should get back to the party before we're both missed and it's deemed unsavoury."

She snorts. "Trust me, they won't notice we even left for at least five hours."

"Nevertheless – I'm your mother's ride."

"You are?"

"Yes."

With that he starts to move away and for some reason she finds herself reaching for him. Her hand lands on his arm and pulls and, to both their surprise, it actually brings him back.

"Oh," she sucks in a breath.

He blinks in confusion and she's not sure if it's because she actually managed to drag him over to somewhere – while he was caught off guard, but still – or because he's surprised she'd want to pull him back.

"Um. I just wanted to say thank you. Again. For everything." He frowns and she rushes to elaborate: "Taking care of my mom, back then and now, and the party – and getting me _out_ of the party," she adds laughingly. "Really. Thank you."

He smiles too and she realises that she's still holding onto him and they're so close that it's really damn difficult not to ogle his features.

It takes her a second before she realises she's not the only one.

His eyes are on her lips as his breath touches them.

"You're welcome."

Forcing herself, she moves her hand off him and takes a small step back, but it only makes her view of his lips better.

She tries, without success, to just stop _freaking staring_.

"You know," he starts, his voice husky, "something's just occurred to me."

"What?" she breathes, grateful for a line of conversation to distract her.

"You said that you wanted to get to know me." She nods her agreement and he smiles wolfishly. "Well, my lips are a very important part of me."

She almost chokes on her own spit; his smile only grows smugger.

"Seriously?"

"Very much so."

"…I thought you weren't going to pressure me into anything?"

Damn his lips are temptingly dark pink. They look soft.

"Anything you didn't want to do."

"And I _want_ to kiss you?" she asks, trying to force as much fake disbelief into her tone as she can manage.

 _Please don't mention me staring at your lips, please don't mention me staring at your lips, please don't –_

"Do you?"

She would choke again if her mouth weren't bone dry.

Thinking fast, she leans in – slowly enough to watch his eyes widen and to hear her heart thumping.

The short kiss lands high on his cheek before she pulls back swiftly.

"Night, Klaus."

It takes him a second to recover then he smiles.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

She nods even though they have no plans.

But he doesn't leave yet. They stand like that, just staring, for a long moment.

She loses track of how long. They just stand there, relishing in the other's presence.

And, ok, _maybe_ she's thinking about what it would feel like if his thumb were on her throat instead of her hand; if it would burn even hotter. Or what those really soft-looking lips would feel like on hers. She wonders how tight he would hold her; how close to him.

 _God, stop._

Clearing her throat, she forces herself to move.

Backing away, she pivots before heading up her porch steps. She hears him begin to walk away too but suddenly his footsteps stop.

"Caroline."

She hesitates before turning.

"Yeah?"

There's fresh concern in his brow.

"I realised I never mentioned the other side effects." When she looks confused: "Of the spell."

"Oh."

"Memory loss was of course amongst the most concerning, but there were others."

She swallows. "Like what?"

He looks bitterly amused.

"Too many to recount. Pertaining to the memory loss, however, I do believe there was mention of memories returning, possibly painfully, vaguely or with delusions; disorientation."

"Oh," she breathes out again.

His eyes burn into hers – she's not sure whether to read it as hopeful or suspicious.

"You'll tell me if you experience any of that?"

She hopes he's too far away to hear her heart stutter nervously.

"Yeah," she smiles brightly, to hide the lie: "Of course."


	14. Chapter 14

Thank you so much for all the feedback on the previous chapter! Love you all.

I'm a bit sleepy so I apologise if there are any leftover errors; please let me know what you think :)

* * *

"Almost four decades into the future and there's still no better way to whisk."

Behind her, Liz snorts out a laugh.

"Well, don't fix what ain't broke."

"That's the most Southern I've ever heard you sound. Also, big words coming from the lady with a piece of glass for a cellphone."

Liz slowly makes to join her at the stovetop.

"Speaking of which, we need to get you one."

Caroline rolls her eyes. "Literally nobody needs to call me."

" _Klaus_ might want to call you," she wiggles her eyebrows.

"Mom!"

She passes the finished pancake mixture on as Liz looks amused with herself then hops up onto the kitchen counter.

Her mother had been predictably mad about her leaving the party early last night – until she'd found out that her and Klaus had spent time together instead. Ever since, she'd been teasing non-stop and Caroline was pretty sure cooking breakfast together was some sort of ruse to get details out of her.

"I'm not stopping till you tell me more."

"There's barely anything to tell."

"Caroline, don't make me invite your aunt Jacky to stay over for a few weeks."

Caroline groaned loudly. Even just as a joking threat, the thought made her shudder. Nobody liked her great aunt Jacky.

"I can't believe you even invited her to the party."

"Well, I didn't want to be on her bad side. I _did_ try discouraging her. And I told her that she didn't have to come if her health would suffer – but she muttered something about free food then put down the phone."

Caroline giggled a little. "I can't believe you're like seventy years old and still scared of your aunt."

Liz pointed the egg lifter at her.

"Not the point. Tell me about last night."

"Ok. But promise you won't freak out."

"Is there something to freak out about?"

"Not really," she hedged.

"Caroline Beulah Forbes –"

"Ok, ok, Mom, god." She took a breath. "We… sort of almost kissed."

"What?"

"The pancakes are burning!"

Her mother started to react but, with a roll of her eyes, Caroline hopped off, flipped all the pancakes then jumped back onto the counter before Liz had even managed to turn her walker around.

"Never mind."

"Forget pancakes burning, I want to know about vampires yearning!"

"Ew, Mom, gross!"

"Told you I wouldn't stop."

Caroline groaned then settled further back on the counter, fiddling a little as she tried to come up with the right way to tell the story.

"…He just basically said that I could kiss him if I wanted."

Liz's eyes narrow. "But you didn't."

"No," she answers shrilly; matter-of-factly.

"Explain."

"Get the pancakes."

Liz first shoots her daughter a glare before turning to get them and Caroline uses the time to collect herself, placing herself back into her own shoes from last night.

"…He said if I wanted to, and I didn't want to."

Liz finishes plating the pancakes and switches off the stove before turning back to her with a raised brow.

"Really?"

" _Yes_. Why are you using that tone?"

"It's called disbelief."

"Fine! Ok. Maybe I wanted to kiss him – a little. But I was using my brain and that told me things were getting really close to moving too fast."

Liz stares at her.

"Too fast? I've never heard you say that in my life."

She gasps. "Am I being slut-shamed by my own mom right now?"

"No, Caroline. I'm just surprised at you. I can't believe you're making up these excuses."

Shaking her head in disappointment, she turns away to begin chopping up the strawberries.

"Mom! It's not an excuse. We've been on, like, two dates. And it's Klaus."

By which she means she's pretty sure it wouldn't stop at just one kiss, but there's _no_ way she's telling her mom that.

Liz takes it differently, though.

" _Exactly_. It's Klaus. The man who has waited _thirty-five years_ to kiss you again, only for you to say that things are _moving too fast_. Riddle me that."

With a huff, she folds her arms.

"It's not like he didn't kiss anyone else all that time."

"Actually, I'm fairly certain that's exactly what happened."

Caroline freezes but then forces an eye roll, trying her best not to buy that.

"Yeah, right, Mom. He's Klaus freaking Mikaelson. You really think he slept alone for every night of those thirty-five years?"

"That I have no doubt about."

She scoffs. "You can't know that."

"Caroline."

Her mother sighs then presses her palms to the counter, still but focused. Their deepest conversations had always occurred when they weren't making eye contact.

"What I know is that he brought you here every second Sunday, no matter where he was in the world. And, yes – _brought you here_. He didn't go anywhere without your coffin. And every time he would have it rolled inside. He'd sit on the couch and pretend not to listen to me talk to you." She takes a breath. "I know that he became a near-hermit because he couldn't bear the thought of not being there when you opened your eyes. I know that he never stood up to leave the room without first glancing at you – and every time it was hopeful. I know he was here every single time I needed him. Even if it was just to cry about how much I missed you – which was a lot. Or if I just needed someone to argue with over wine." She draws a deep breath. "That's what I know."

Caroline tries to wipe away the tears on her cheeks before Liz turns to meet her eyes, but it's too late, and there is sympathy in her mother's old eyes.

"If you think he had time – between that and killing all those Reese descendants – to have other relationships, then maybe I'm wrong." She smiles slightly. "But I wouldn't bet on it."

Caroline blinks rapidly, trying to force her eyes to stop forming tears.

Eventually it works and she forces a smile.

"…I guess you're probably right, then."

Liz laughs a little and suddenly they both break out into giggles, an outlet for the strange tension in the air.

She doesn't know how to deal with all the information her mother had just given her. Doesn't know what to think about the vampire-werewolf Big Bad staying faithful to her for thirty-five years.

Liz's hand lands on her wrist.

"I'm not telling you to do anything you don't want to do, Caroline. All I'm saying is don't wait because you think it's what you should do."

Putting her other hand over her mother's, she swallows.

"You're right. Thanks, Mom."

"Oh, finally. I can die now. I heard my daughter say I was right about something. Twice."

She rolls her eyes, which sends them into another fit of giggles.

Liz wipes away a tear as she moves back towards the strawberries.

"Anything else on your mind you need help with?" she teases, but Caroline grows thoughtful.

She wishes there weren't.

* * *

"Mom, you know how you asked if there was anything else on my mind?"

They'd watched an episode of a soapie and are halfway through their pancakes when she gathers the courage to ask.

"Hmm-mm?" her mother wonders, her mouth full.

"Well, Klaus actually brought up something else last night too."

She frowns. "What?"

"Well… he said that my memories might start returning and that it might not be a fun process. He asked me to promise that I would tell him if it started happening."

Immediately Liz looks concerned.

"Did you?"

"I did."

Immediately she looks down at her lap, where her hands are fidgeting.

There's a slight pause, then: "…But?"

"But… I don't know if I would."

She waits a second then looks back up to meet her mother's eyes. There's confusion there and a little bit of disappointment. She half-expects to hear 'I didn't raise you like this' escape her lips.

It's almost as bad.

"Why would you make a promise you don't intend to keep?"

God. That very question had been haunting her since last night.

But how could she not have promised? How could she have looked at him and admitted that she wouldn't tell him if she got her memories back? Those memories that are so precious to him.

Which is the problem.

"Because…" She sighs. "Because I don't want to get his hopes up."

Liz's eyebrow shoots up in surprise and Caroline feels a weird sort of shame.

"That's why," she says softly, looking back down. "I feel like we're finally getting somewhere and I don't want to mess it up with something that will only confuse things even more." She hesitates then admits: "It's gonna hurt him if they don't all come back."

Caroline bites on her lip, trying not to cry, and her mother's hand lands on her wrist.

"You care about him."

"Yeah." Her lip wobbles. "I do."

And that's the worst of it. She'd gone from attacking him to protecting him in an unbelievable amount of time and she isn't sure why or how. All she knows is that, standing on her porch last night staring back at him as he asked her to promise, she'd known that she couldn't tell him the truth.

She'd known that she couldn't bear to see joy and hope cross his face only to be followed by the complete opposites as it all came crashing down.

Because nothing she has experienced so far has led her to any confidence that she'll be getting all her memories back. If anything, it's like they're just teasing her. Like there's a block she can't make her way past, no matter what she does; how hard she tries.

She'd remembered him talking about Elijah; the pain hidden in his features. She can't be the one to cause that. She won't. Not again. Not when she can protect him from it.

And, mostly – she can't disappoint him. Can't be a disappointment _to_ him. She wants to be enough.

Liz takes a deep breath then squeezes.

"I think there can be honour in keeping a secret to prevent someone you care about from getting hurt."

She nods but can't ignore the tone her mother had left it on.

"…But?"

There's hesitation but then the rest comes.

"I also know it can be cruel."

It takes only a second for Caroline to realise: "Dad."

Liz nods. "I forgave Bill, I did, but when you get to my age you start thinking about all the time you wasted. I could've saved so much of it, not being bitter. I could've met someone else. You could've had a wonderful stepfather. Instead, how long he lied to me for haunted me; made me incapable of trusting another man that way."

Caroline nods, taking this in.

She remembers how utterly broken her mother had been.

"Are you saying I'm wasting Klaus' time?"

"Honey, no. Of course not. I'm just saying that he waited thirty-five years. It was a lot of time. I think he deserves the truth."

She thinks of his face in the restaurant when he'd begged her to remember.

"But just because someone deserves the truth doesn't mean it won't hurt."

Liz thinks about this for a moment.

"No. I suppose it doesn't."

"So what do I do?"

Liz stares at her daughter for a long moment before letting out a lengthy exhale.

"You… eat pancakes."

Caroline giggles in surprise.

"What?"

"I may be old, but I don't have all the answers, Caroline. For now, we eat pancakes. And _if_ you do get any memories back, we'll cross that bridge if we get to it, alright?"

With a forced smile, Caroline picks up her fork again and nods.

"Right. If we get to it."

* * *

Caroline wanders into her room with a glass of orange juice.

The Spanish soapies had started and it turned out her mother had, over the years, learned Spanish from them – Caroline, apparently, had not. Liz had first joked that Klaus should have played language learning tapes for her while she'd been in the coma then fiddled with the TV to try and find how to turn the subtitles back on before Caroline had told her it was ok.

Truth be told, she'd been getting a little queasy watching them, anyway. Her life right now is way too close to what she'd been watching on-screen.

Sighing, Caroline flops down onto her bed.

She's been trying not to, but all she can think of is what her mom had said about secrets and lies.

She just wishes it had helped her figure out what the right thing to do is here.

She knows it's wrong to lie to Klaus – and her mother, for that matter – but right now it's what feels right.

With another sigh, Caroline reaches for the diary she's on. If there's one thing guaranteed to distract her, it's that.

Frowning, she notices that her handwriting had gone from normal to almost illegible towards the end of the entry, as if she'd been in distress.

She forces herself to start at the beginning, though.

 ** __Date __**

 **I'd found it! God. I'd just found it.**

 _She burst into the study with an ecstatic smile on her face only to be jolted by Klaus' expression._

 _"What's wrong?" she breathed._

 _He looked up slowly, barely acknowledging that she was here instead of in her room._

 _The look in his eyes made her stomach fall._

 _"It's Marcel."_

 _In an instant she was before him, standing opposite his desk._

 _He didn't have to say anything else. The dead space in his eyes said it all._

 _"No," she shook her head, stepping back. "No no no."_

 _He looked away as her heart beat wildly._

 _"Klaus, I'm so sorry."_

 _She rounded the desk to stand beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder._

 _"I'm sorry."_

 _She was sorry. That it had happened, yes, but mostly because it had been because of her._

 _He rested a hand on her arm but still didn't meet her eyes. "He died fighting. It was honourable."_

 _His mouth was saying all the right things but his tone was something different altogether. It was hollow. Like there was nothing left alive inside him._

 _She couldn't blame him. She'd taken it all._

 _"Well, nobody else has to." He looked up to meet her eyes, confused. "Klaus, I found it. The solution to everything."_

 _"Which is what?"_

 _"A spell. Rosemary told me about it. It's in her grimoire; her great-grandmother created it."_

 _"What sort of spell?"_

 _"It'll stop my heart and put me in a coma. Kind of like when you dagger your siblings."_

 _He blinked. "A coma?"_

 _"Yes. Look, I know it's not ideal. But Reese wants my_ beating _heart. This will stop it. If we can play it off like you killed me, then he'll have to give up on his entire plan and this war will end."_

 _He stared at her for a second longer then looked away._

 _"It won't work."_

 _"We have to try." Gently she pried his chin, forcing him to meet her eyes again. "For Marcel."_

 _His eyes widened in misery, as if the wound had been made afresh, and she leaned down to wrap herself around him._

 _Hugging him tightly to her, she closed her eyes and whispered into his ear._

 _"Please just talk to Rosemary."_

Caroline throws down the diary as if it had burned her.

"Oh my god," she mutters, breathless.

Why hadn't he told her?

This whole time, from the beginning, she'd believed that the spell had been his idea. His fault.

His fault, that she had lost thirty-eight years of her life. But this whole time it had been her own doing. And he'd let her believe that.

She has to know why.

She hasn't finished the entry yet but she can't wait. She has to know now.

So, without another glance at the diary, she whooshes off.

* * *

It's a minute run for a vampire so she gets there not having cooled off at all.

As a result she blows right in without bothering to knock, listening for his pulse and finding it.

" _Why didn't you tell me?!_ "

They're on the balcony, the late morning sun bright and, as he turns to her in surprise, it suddenly dawns on her that she'd just run right into his home without any kind of warning. He could've been in the middle of anything.

It dawns on her because he's shirtless.

"Caroline." He blinks. "Good morning."

She finds her mouth dry; her eyes wondering over the expanse of his bare skin.

Obviously she'd imagined seeing him nude before, but the real life experience is completely different. She's hit both with her own reactions – observation, mostly, like how he has a tattoo on his shoulder – and the Caroline to whom this is a familiar sight. A _lustful_ familiar one. That Caroline wants to be closer.

And, well, she's not sure she's all that far off.

"H-hi."

"You seem distressed; is something wrong?"

She clears her throat, forcing herself to meet his eyes.

"Um, no."

He hesitates then seems to accept her assurance.

"Alright. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee or juice? Something stronger, perhaps?"

He lifts his own tumbler indicatively, and she notices it's filled with liquor.

"Um, water, please."

He nods then whooshes away and she pushes her feet to take her to the ledge. She needs something to hold onto.

It's been a while since she'd had a reaction so powerful that lined up with Past Caroline's. She can still feel the aftershocks, little tingles in her chest as her hands tremble.

She wants him, she realises.

"Here."

She jumps, hearing his voice behind her.

With one stabilising breath, then a second, she turns to take the glass from him. She doesn't really know why she'd asked for water, beyond needing a distraction. She doesn't want a drink – she wants an answer.

So she takes it, takes a single sip, then places the glass down on the ledge.

He comes closer, like he wants to ask her what's wrong again, and she notices that he'd pulled on a Henley. He searches her eyes for a long moment then says something she somehow knows isn't anything he'd wanted to say.

"You caught me by surprise."

Remembering her entry, she staves off a blush as she pushes some hair back behind her ear.

"Yeah. Sorry I just burst in. The door was unlocked," she excuses herself lamely.

He smirks. "It always is."

"Right. Who's going to just walk into the Original Hybrid's house?"

"You, apparently."

Feeling awkward, she smiles.

"…Yeah."

She turns a little to observe the view. It's what he'd been doing when she'd run in: standing watching the late morning sun with some scotch in hand.

"Is this how you spend mornings?"

He nods. "Recently."

There's something in his tone that is both suggestive and sad. Like they had spent their mornings together very differently. Like he'd had thirty-five years of mornings not doing whatever that was.

She almost jumps again when he places his hand on her upper arm, rubbing for a moment before squeezing a little. The touch is surprisingly intimate and she turns her neck to meet his curious eyes.

"What do you need from me?"

Her breath catches. Because for one quick second she forgets the question she had lobbed at him upon first arriving and thinks, instead, that he is asking her about their future.

Then she remembers.

"I read something in my diary." He frowns. "It was the day I told you about the spell." His eyes widen and she hears his heartbeat pick up speed. "Why didn't you tell me that it was my idea to do it?"

For a second confusion ripples across his features, like he'd thought she was referencing something else. Then he lets go of his hold on her and, looking away, takes a small step back.

"I forgot you would have written about that."

Anger begins in her stomach.

"So you were just going to keep it a secret?"

He meets her eyes again in surprise. "That's not what I meant."

But he makes no move to explain what he _did_ mean and now she's confused, too. Why does his mind seem to be elsewhere? Why is referencing that day putting him out of sorts in a different way than it had for her?

"…So it's true, then? The spell was all my idea? _I_ got it from Rosemary and convinced _you_?"

He turns away.

"It's not that simple."

She chases.

"But it _was_ me who found it? And it was you who didn't want to do it?"

He exhales heavily through his nose.

"Yes."

She steps closer behind him. She wants to touch him but doesn't know how or why.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She breathes. Her voice lowers. "You let me believe it was you."

Her own words hit her like darts – they're what made her speed over here as misunderstanding had become humiliation; regret.

 _"Caroline, you have been in that coffin for the past thirty-five years – "_

 _"Why would you do that to me?"_

 _"I didn't – "_

 _"What? You thought I was like one of your siblings; that you could just stick me in a box after I made you mad and rejected you?"_

She wants to heave, each thought revolting her more than the previous one.

 _You're saying you did something to me that made me lose thirty-eight years of my life?_

Why hadn't he told her what had really happened?

 _But the truth is that because of you I lost thirty-eight years of my life and every single one of my friends._

God. She'd been so nasty to him, blamed him for it all, when the whole time it had been her. Only her. He'd fought against it and she'd persisted. The spell had been her idea. And he'd taken the blame for it.

"Why?" she prompts, hating his silence.

Finally he reacts, slowly turning to face her.

"How could I have told you, Caroline?"

She sucks in a breath. Then she finds herself rationalising: "I may not have trusted you right at the beginning, but you could've told me any time after that."

He stares at her, hard.

"I suppose that's true."

"So then why didn't you?" she accuses.

"Because…" He sighs, frustrated. "Because I didn't want you blaming yourself. You were – are – haunted by the result of that decision every day. I didn't want you to hate yourself for it."

Her lip quivered.

"You'd rather have me hate you?"

"Of course," he says, without hesitation.

Forcing herself to take deep breaths, she puts more space between them.

"God," she mutters, "this is so messed up."

"I should have told you, I know. But I couldn't."

She shakes her head. "You did say you were good at secrets."

He scoffs humourlessly.

"And you always hated it."

She steps closer to the ledge again, looking out the view, trying to clear her mind. His explanation was so simple but it means so many things.

She takes long deep breaths of the air. It's still crisp; just beginning to warm.

"You should've told me." She stills, feeling him behind her. "…But I get that it must've been hard, harder even, not to."

Bracing herself for what she'll find in his eyes once she turns around, she does.

She's not wrong – there is a storm of emotions behind his eyes, but she forces herself to say it anyway.

"Thank you."

He shakes his head. "You found out anyway."

"That wasn't your fault."

He nods slowly, looking away, before meeting her eyes again. She notes the way the light hits his; how bright and beautiful they are. God – how beautiful _he_ is.

How can something so dark be so beautiful in the sunlight?

"I don't suppose you read any further?" he asks suddenly, a strange edge to his tone.

She frowns. "…No. I read that part then came straight over." She hesitates, seeing his uncertain reaction. "Why?"

He begins to step away. "There were things I said and did that day that weren't… It wasn't my finest hour."

"Hey." She catches him by the arm and again manages to hold him. "Whatever it was, it's in the past."

He doesn't look comforted.

"The past has a way of catching up to the present."

She steps closer, her breaths quickening.

"What if we don't let it?"

She sees realisation dawn in his eyes; sees him take in their proximity and then her body language.

"What are you doing?"

"Not letting the past affect the present." She steps even closer, as close as they'd been last night when she'd kissed him on the cheek. "I made a mistake last night."

His eyes drift down to her lips, where his breath already tickles.

"What was it?"

She gets closer.

"I didn't kiss you."

His eyes widen and he lets out a rush of breath as her mother's advice runs through her mind.

This is what she wants. Why wait any longer?

Klaus' surprise is quickly overcome by something else – lust, maybe. A smirk appears on his lips and she can't stop thinking about how much she wants hers on them.

"Perhaps you should rectify that, then."

She can't help it, she smiles, and he grins back at her.

His hand comes up to her face and she almost shivers as he pushes a strand of hair from her face. It suddenly occurs to her that she'd rushed over here with zero thought for how she looked. At this particular moment she can't be sure she's wearing clothing instead of pajamas. Still, with the way he's looking at her she may as well have been wearing that dress from the Mikaelson Ball again, with him staring at her like there was no one else in the room.

Her own hand creeps up, on its way to his neck, but it gets stuck on his chest. He's so _warm_.

She remembers liking that about Tyler. Stefan had taught her to drink coffee or alcohol so her blood felt at least semi-warm, but nothing ever really made it match up to a human's – and certainly not a hybrid.

But it's not just that. There, beneath the thin fabric of the Henley, is a thrumming.

It's his heart, she realises.

It's going fast but that's not what she's focused on. It's that it's there at all.

 _Yes,_ she knows vampires have beating hearts. She's one herself. But he's _Klaus Mikaelson._ Somehow she never imagined his heart beating.

Monsters don't have hearts and they definitely don't beat. And, most definitely, their heartbeat doesn't speed up because she's about to kiss them.

Her, Caroline Forbes, kissing the villain.

"What's wrong?" he whispers.

She realises a fair amount of time has passed. She'd just gotten so lost in the feel of him – his heat and his heart.

"Nothing, it's just…" She draws her eyes up to his. "Your heart."

His smile had dissipated but now it comes back a little.

"What about it?"

"I-I don't know," she blushes. "It's… there. And beating."

She expects him to mock her or look confused but instead he stares hard at her, something behind his eyes that she can't interpret.

Then he lays his hand over hers. She gasps, mostly at her hand now enveloped by his heat, but then at how intimate this is.

His hand is firm, pressing hers closer to his chest, and she feels his heartbeart more clearly; feels it quicken.

"Proof, if you needed it."

She moves closer, moving her head slightly to shake it. There's barely any space left between them.

"I didn't."

His smile disappears as she says it, his eyes growing serious; focusing first on her eyes then her lips.

She's barely breathing as her other hand creeps up into his neck then higher up, across his stubble. It tickles the ends of her fingers in the most pleasing and familiar way. She likes the way it feels; likes the way he almost imperceptibly seems to curl into her touch. Likes knowing that this is a new step in their relationship – she's never touched him like this before.

God, she's so nervous. But she also really wants it.

Except what if she can't go back, after? Can't take it back?

 _Would she want to?_

With one last look up at his eyes, she takes a breath then closes the last inch.

Except, a second after her lips brush against his, his phone rings.


	15. Chapter 15

I intended to have this out sooner :/ But the tail end of this week kicked my ass. Speaking of which, please forgive any errors left over. I'm so tired and have pre-period brain (which is a totally scientific thing). That being said, this is all because of you guys and your amazing reviews! I don't think there were any that didn't make me LOL. So thank you so much and I hope you retract your death wishes for the person on the other end of the call hahaha.

Let me know what you think :)

* * *

"Please don't get that."

He lets out a breath. "I have to; it's your mother."

She wants to curse but instead she just grits her teeth. Her mom wouldn't call if it weren't important.

Still, it takes another two rings before she's able to pull herself away. With a lingering glance at her, Klaus reaches for his phone.

"Liz," he greets between his teeth.

"Don't take that tone with me," she immediately reprimands.

Amazed, Caroline watches as Klaus is actually cowed: he grows visibly timid, his shoulders relaxing.

"I assume you'd like to speak with your daughter?" he asks, more calmly.

"So she is there... Yes."

An apology in his eyes, he holds the phone out to Caroline.

She grimaces as she takes it.

"Hi, Mom."

"Told you you needed your own phone."

Her eyes close. "Please don't tell me you called just to say that."

"No." A pause. "I've fallen."

Fear rips through her like an electric shock.

"Oh my god!" She tries to breathe. "Are you ok?"

"Fine, don't worry. It's just that I can't seem to get back up."

"Ok, Mom, I'll be right there."

She says a quick goodbye then ends the call and all but tosses the phone back at Klaus.

"I have to go."

"Caroline –"

But she's gone.

He speeds after her, pulling her by the arm at the front door to force her to stop.

"Caroline!"

"What?!" She spins to face him, half terrified and half seething. "I can't deal with this right now, Klaus. My mom –"

"I know, love. It's _about_ your mother."

The way he says it makes her force herself to calm down.

"What?"

"You should know that this is by no means an isolated incident." At her frown: "She tends to fall often."

Her heart drops. "What?"

"I've had the world's thickest carpets installed throughout the house so she wouldn't easily dislocate a hip or the like but, yes, she seems to lose her balance often."

"Why didn't she tell me?"

"Truthfully, she won't even admit to me that it's happened more than once. I'm not entirely sure if dementia has begun setting in or if she simply enjoys making _me_ feel like the mentally deficient party."

She smiles a little at that.

"Ok. Anything else I should know?"

"Well, I've tried convincing her of the necessity of a live-in nurse but haven't had much luck yet. Perhaps you could give it a try?"

She nods. "That's a good idea."

He looks relieved.

"Alright." Then, after a second: "That's all."

She nods again, recognising it as his permission for her to leave, but she can't seem to make herself. Now that the utter horror and urgency of the situation has dissipated a little, she finds herself trapped in the moment they would've had if she hadn't immediately rushed off. A moment filled with awkwardness and regret.

"Thanks, Klaus," she says, to say something. "For looking after her."

His face morphs into amusement, likely remembering her similar sentiments last night.

"You've thanked me enough, Caroline."

"Not for the carpets. And…" She hesitates but then forces herself to go through with it: "I'm sorry, about just now, for assuming."

It was still her instinct to think him incapable of feelings – doubly so, when relating to her mother. And she was ashamed of those instincts, considering she knew how much he'd done for her mother while she'd been in that coma. The coma _she'd_ chosen.

Those instincts made her assume he'd wanted her to stay to talk about what had just happened despite her mother possibly being hurt, when all he'd wanted to do was fill her in.

He shakes his head. "I understand. I should've let you go; I just know how debilitating your fear for her can be and thought it better to manage your concern."

"I appreciate it."

Again, with the formality. She never means it – she's not sure how it keeps escaping her lips.

Maybe because, with increasing intensity, every time he says or does something considerate, she feels the need to relay her gratitude physically. Touching him or kissing him; maybe more.

Not for the first time, she realises that he'd omitted when he'd said that they'd used to have sex after arguments. With the urges she's having to contend with from Past Caroline, she's pretty sure there had been far more triggers.

Now, though, she wants to lay a hand on his arm or curl her hand into his. Just to feel his skin and absorb the way he seems to know her so well; know how she'll react to everything.

"Um." She clears her throat. "I'm gonna go."

He nods. "Send Liz my regards. And remind her the nurse would be male and quite handsome."

He flashes her a smirk at that last part and she giggles as she speeds back home.

* * *

"How are you? Are you ok?"

"Caroline, for the millionth time, I'm completely fine."

Caroline sits back to stare at her mother. She'd rushed in, picked her mother up from the floor – where it seemed she had lost her footing trying to get off the sofa – then brought her to her bedroom after Liz mentioned that she felt tired.

"You seem unsatisfied."

Well, considering she hadn't gotten to have her kiss with Klaus, that's not completely off base, but there's no way she's admitting that.

"I'm just trying to work out what's going on."

Liz frowns. "With?"

"You. Klaus told me you fall a lot, Mom."

Realisation dawns in the older woman's eyes before immediately turning to aggravation.

"He's a worry wart."

"He's trying to take care of you."

"It's not necessary. I can take care of myself."

"Can you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Mom, do you remember falling a lot?"

Klaus mentioning memory issues had really worried her. In her mind her mother is still forty-something, not at the age where dementia is a real worry.

But Liz lets out an annoyed breath. "Of course I do, honey. I just tell Klaus I don't because he becomes this weird mixture of bewildered and suspicious that I find hilarious."

Caroline can't help laughing at that.

"I see where I get my evil streak from, now." Liz seems pleased with that and Caroline rolls her eyes. "…He also said he offered you a nurse."

"Oh, not you too."

"Mom, I actually think it's a good idea."

"Caroline, you're young, swift and entirely capable. Of course you think it's a good idea. You have no idea how humiliating having a nurse would be."

She lifts a brow persuasively. "Klaus said he would be hot."

Liz issues a beleaguered sigh.

"If you two will stop nagging, I'll consider it."

"Yay!"

"I said I'd consider it, not do it."

"That's today. Tomorrow you'll be on board."

Liz snorts in amusement. "It's crazy how much I've missed that optimism."

With an even brighter smile, Caroline leans down to hug her mother before deciding to roll over and lie beside her.

She ends up staring at the ceiling, thinking about Klaus.

"What were you doing over there?" Liz reads her mind.

"Um…"

"Taking my advice?"

Caroline laughs. "Kind of. I got scared, though."

She doesn't want to tell her that her phone call had interrupted them – she wants her mother to feel free to call whenever necessary. Besides, if she hadn't let her nerves get the better of her for a while, they would've kissed before the phone rang.

Liz finds Caroline's hand and holds it.

"We all get scared."

That makes Caroline face her mother.

"Mom, do you normally call him? Klaus? When something like this happens?"

Liz nods. "He asked me to. He's not usually in the area but he has various people in the neighbourhood compelled to come and help me when I need it."

Caroline blinks and it's gone but Liz knows her daughter well.

"What?"

"It's just that… you really seem to trust him. And depend on him."

"Does that upset you?"

"No, Mom, not at all. More like confuses me." She remembers Klaus reacting to her mother's reprimand and everything they'd both told her about their relationship. "I guess I can't quite wrap my head around the two of you getting along this well. Or at _all_."

From what she remembers, her mother and Klaus' sole interaction had been when he'd blackmailed her into letting him save Caroline's life from Tyler's werewolf bite. A bite _he'd_ caused.

Liz smiles. "It's true. I wasn't a fan at the beginning. Of the concept of you dating him _or_ him."

"So then what happened?"

"Well, after you came back from your two weeks together in Switzerland –"

"Wait – our _what_ , _where_?"

Liz looks amused. "Your first date after he moved back from New Orleans. He took you to Crans-Montana and you wanted to stay for longer than the one night."

Caroline's jaw hangs open, not really sure which part she's least able to process.

"And you _let_ me?"

"You're a grown woman, Caroline. Besides, you gave me quite the persuasive speech before leaving. Half of which was devoted to pointing out – with the threat of flowcharts as evidence – that you couldn't be safer with anyone else, so I had no reason to worry."

She runs a hand through her hair with a long exhale.

"I can't believe I let him take me to another _continent_."

Liz replies quietly: "You trusted him."

Clearly. God, it's annoying how much memory she's missing. She hates that she can't even remember what happened before graduation – what could have occurred between the two of them for her to be so happy to see him that night?

What had happened between draining Elena to kill Alaric and that night?

She thinks, suddenly, of the moment Klaus had left out during his retelling of that night.

And, also, she still doesn't know: her last _what_?

"And _I_ wanted to stay for longer than a night?"

"Yes," Liz nods. "The plan was for dinner and one night staying over before you flew back the next morning. But you called me that night and told me that the hotel was absolutely amazing and that you had to see more of Switzerland and had to go skiing and you were making rich couple friends, etcetera etcetera."

Caroline smiles at this, recognising her own brand of rambling.

"Wow."

"Indeed. As I said, you ended up staying two weeks and when you came back… there was something different about you."

Caroline had resumed staring up at the roof as she contemplated Switzerland, but now she turns back to her mom.

"Different, how?"

She thinks for a while then shrugs.

"I don't know, exactly. It was something in your eyes. Like you'd lived an entire life; like you'd breathed fresh air for the first time. You said it was just two weeks on a mountain living the high life, but I knew. I knew you were in love."

She feels Past Caroline's blush rise to her cheeks and looks away again.

Desperately she tries to come at any of those memories – even of just returning home.

But it's hopeless. Whatever is up with her memories, it's clear they aren't returning at will.

Her mother continues. "You begged me for a week to meet with him." She laughs a little. "You kept saying he may be a serial killer, yes, but one with a heart. And so eventually I did, and I saw the way you looked at him; saw the way he treated you. Eventually I was convinced. And then, of course, there was the New Orleans thing…"

Caroline hears her mother's pulse pick up.

"Mom, it's ok. I'm safe now."

She squeezes her hand. "I know, honey. It just still hurts to think of everything we all went through, then; how much time we lost." She sighs, the breath filled with regret. "Anyway, after that, he was all I had left of you. And I started seeing some of what you'd always told me about. Charming, intelligent and a sense of humour. And it's true –" she smiles crookedly, " _serial killer with a heart_. I found that he had a surprising capacity for caring – even though he tries to let it show as little as possible. All that added to you being gone…"

"You bonded," Caroline nods, now understanding fully.

"I suppose we did," Liz grins, her eyes starting to fall closed. "Don't tell him I said so, though."

Caroline giggles at that a little then deliberately re-positions herself.

With a toothy smile Liz eagerly receives her into her arms and they fall asleep cuddling, just like when she was five years old.

* * *

 _Caroline opened her eyes._

 _Klaus was still asleep. She watched him for a few seconds, in amazement. The Original Hybrid asleep, just like anybody else. Except doubly as adorable, with the crisp light flooding the room and illuminating his features._

 _His stubble looked even more auburn; his tussled hair a touch blonder. His long eyelashes, light dancing off them, made him seem deceptively innocent. Her gaze fell to his lips, which remained perfect, then down his revealed torso._

 _She almost blushed, thinking of last night. Even in her wildest imagination she'd never thought that she could be so physically sated by anyone; so challenged and turned on._

 _Just there, beneath his tattoo, she'd laid her lips. Over his biceps and down to his abs…_

 _All of a sudden realisation dawned that he wasn't the only naked one. With a tiny gasp she fisted the million-threadcount sheet covering her then ever-so-slowly began to inch away. Right at the edge of the bed, she turned away from him so she could roll away soundlessly._

 _But, suddenly, a hand clamped down around her wrist._

 _She screeched as she was dragged back before she caught sight of Klaus – who was smirking._

 _"Shit! You scared me!"_

 _"Apologies, love," he said, looking nowhere near sorry. "I'm just curious as to where it is you think you're going."_

 _He neared and she swallowed._

 _"I was just going to go to the bathroom."_

 _He leaned closer to her, lifting a brow. "Really? You weren't thinking of sneaking off, perhaps?"_

 _"Where would I go, Klaus? We're on a freaking moutaintop."_

 _He only looked more amused._

 _"You know, you're a terrible liar."_

 _She glared at him for a solid few seconds before letting out a heavy breath, realising she'd been caught out._

 _"_ Fine _. I was going to go to my room to get something to wear. But then I was gonna come back!"_

 _"And why is clothing necessary?"_

 _She resumed her glaring. "Because I'm naked under here, duh. And not clothing. Maybe just some, like,_ underwear _."_

 _She wasn't sure where in the room the ones she'd been wearing last night were, but they were in about 57 different pieces anyway, so it wasn't like that was an option._

 _Klaus pulled a hand through her hair – which she was sure must have looked like something had nested in it, what with all his tugging on it last night. It wasn't last on the list of things she'd wanted to go back to her room to fix. Like, she was pretty sure she had some eyeliner on her chin or something equally as embarrassing._

 _"Considering everything we did last night, I'm not sure there's any need for modesty, love."_

 _Now she did blush, all the different positions and, well, how_ open _she'd been for him, rushing back at breakneck speed._

 _She cleared her throat. "Last_ night _. As in darkness. Morning light is_ not _kind."_

 _He still seemed a little amused but now curiosity was also mixed in and he moved his hands to hers._

 _She was confused at first, but his meaning became clear when, slowly but firmly, he began unfurling her fingers from around the sheets. She tried to resist but he was determined and, duh, way stronger than her._

 _She closed her eyes when her pinkies were pulled away, followed by him drawing the sheet gently from her body, completely revealing her to him._

 _In her mind's eye she saw the stretch marks on her hips – from her human days – and how her one breast was slightly larger than the other and the birth mark on her stomach that she'd always hated; the ugly scar beside her right knee._

 _He didn't say anything, though, so she opened her eyes again to see him just staring, slack-jawed. It took her breath away._

 _Then, still moving slowly, he drew a finger down the side of her body, from beside her breast down to the curve of her hip and over her leg._

 _"You're magnificent," he breathed._

 _Before she was able to formulate a reply, he'd ducked down, and she screamed again, this time at the feel of his lips brushing against her nipple. He was doing it frustratingly softly but the texture of his lips against the sensitive buds made her want to buck her body into him._

 _She cursed under her breath as he moved to the other breast and her fingers sunk into the nape of his neck._

 _"Klaus," she whimpered._

 _At the mention of his name, he drew back to look at her and she used the opportunity to pull him down to her lips. She kissed him violently, desperately, and he responded in kind before drawing away unexpectedly._

 _"I want to sketch you like this."_

 _She had to suppress an eye roll. They'd been in Switzerland for a week and she was pretty sure he'd filled a book with all the sketches he'd done of her._

 _Plus, she wasn't sure she was ready to see her naked form on paper just yet._

 _Moving closer, she hitched her leg over his, ensuring he'd feel the building heat between her legs._

 _"Right now?"_

 _She kissed him and he smiled into it before pulling away breathily._

 _"Perhaps not."_

 _She giggled then flashed to sit astride him, loving the reverent way he looked up at her._

 _She was leaning down to kiss him when she frowned._

 _She'd placed a hand on his chest to steady herself and now she noticed a light but insistent thrumming against it. She pulled back to stare and Klaus frowned too._

 _"What?"_

 _"Nothing, it's just… your heart."_

 _He lifted a brow. "What about it?"_

 _"It's stupid," she shook her head._

 _But she kept feeling it, steady and strong, beneath her hand and she couldn't stop thinking about it._

 _"It's… beating."_

 _He smirked. "Disappointed? I didn't realise you were a necrophiliac, sweetheart."_

 _She rolled her eyes then smacked him with her free hand._

 _"I'm not disappointed. I'm… in awe."_

 _His expression immediately becoming serious, he began caressing the hand planted on his chest._

 _"You mean surprised?"_

 _She blushed. "…Maybe."_

 _"I don't suppose villains are supposed to have beating hearts?"_

 _Her gaze moved from their hands to his eyes._

 _"No," she swallowed, "they aren't."_

 _They'd been here for a week and had had many conversations, many of them serious. But last night was the first time she'd come to bed with him and somehow that made it all that much more real._

 _She was in a relationship with this man._

 _"Caroline," he called her back._

 _She'd managed to disappear in her own thoughts but now she forced herself to focus again._

 _He squeezed at her hand._

 _"Any regrets?"_

 _His voice was funny, like he was trying incredibly hard not to sound vulnerable or scared, but despite his best efforts he couldn't seem to muffle it completely._

 _It tugged at her heartstrings._

 _"No. Of course not."_

 _He stared at her for a moment longer, as if trying to decipher whether that was the truth or not. She wanted to remind him that she'd promised never to lie to him, but decided to go with a different tactic._

 _"You're like a serial killer, with a heart." She leaned down. "_ My _serial killer with a heart."_

 _He smiled for a second, but his expression evened out just as fast while he halted her advance._

 _She frowned when he pushed her hand more firmly against his chest, so hard she wouldn't be surprised if it hurt._

 _"It beats for_ you _, Caroline Forbes."_

 _She couldn't breathe for a second then found herself leaning down, kissing him softly._

 _"Yeah?"_

 _His lips turned upward a little beneath hers._

 _"Yes."_

 _Keeping her hand on his heart, she moved her lips to his neck, brushing over his clavicle as she noted his heartbeat pick up speed. For a second she froze in disbelief. She'd done that. Her, Caroline Forbes, affecting the Original Hybrid viscerally, with almost no effort._

 _Feeling powerful, she moved to nibble at his jaw. "What if I do this?"_

 _He groaned and she felt him beginning to harden between her thighs. Deliberately she began to grind down on him and his moans came freely, louder and huskier. His heart tapped away against her palm._

 _She kissed her way over his stubble then moved her tongue to his ear, taking his earlobe between her teeth as she increased the pace of her hips. He cursed; his heart pounded._

 _She was smiling to herself, delighted with the results of this experiment, when suddenly she found herself on her back. Her hands were pinned above her head and Klaus was hovering over her._

 _"Seems you want to get my heart rate up, love…" He grinned and it was wolfish._

 _She grinned back._

* * *

With a swallow, Caroline opens her eyes.

It's mid-afternoon, telling from the sunshine coming in through her mother's bedroom window, and the elder Forbes is missing.

Caroline rolls onto her back with a smile on her face.

It takes her several seconds to realise why it's there.

"Oh my god," she mutters to herself.

Had… that just been another memory?

Playing it over in her mind, she realises it had contained far too much detail to be something from just her imagination.

And… it explained Klaus' reaction earlier. He must have been trying to figure out if she remembered them sharing a similar moment before, or if it had just been coincidence.

Turns out, it had been coincidence. But now she remembers.

Swallowing again, she notices that there's movement and sound coming from the front of the house.

Voices, she realises.

She goes stock still when she recognises Klaus'.

For a second she's paralysed with fear, before she remembers that he obviously has no way of knowing what she'd just been dreaming about. Still, before exiting her mother's room, she takes a moment to compose herself – to remind herself that this Caroline is not the same one from the dream. This Caroline and Klaus – their relationship – is not the same.

No matter how many crazy cravings that memory had left behind.

"Hey."

She'd crept in and happened upon some sort of argument, it seems.

Both Liz and Klaus turn to her in surprise.

"Caroline."

"Klaus came to check if I was fine."

"Oh."

"Yes and, upon achieving so, stepped into an unsought debate about a recipe."

Smiling, she enters the kitchen fully.

"A recipe, huh?"

Her mouth is following the conversation but her eyes are mapping him.

He's wearing a leather jacket over the Henley he'd pulled on this morning and dark jeans instead of pajama pants. Even from where she's standing she can smell his amazing scent, overpowering her with memories from earlier. What that phone call had interrupted.

Liz picks up on it.

"I'll leave you two alone."

Caroline wants to say that's not necessary but, truthfully, all she wants to do is be alone with him.

When her mom finally roll-creaks out of the room, she meets Klaus' eyes as an unbidden blush washes over her.

"Hi."

He doesn't seem to know what to do with her reaction or second greeting so he just stares, albeit affectionately.

"Um… it was nice for you to come check on us. She was fine, though, like you said."

He shifts. "Truth be told, that's not the only reason I came."

She steps closer. "Oh?"

"Yes. I wanted to know whether you'd have dinner with me tonight."

She finds a smile blooming on her face.

"Yeah. Of course."

He smiles too and it takes her a minute to realise they're just standing there staring at each other like dorks now, both of them no doubt thinking about this morning. And, for her, with the added benefit of the dream.

Clearing her throat, she forces herself to say something.

"Is there another fancy restaurant in town I don't know about?"

"Actually, I'll be cooking for you."

She raises an eyebrow.

"You cook?"

He scoffs. "You know, somehow the amount of surprise in that never seems to hurt less."

She's about to respond when her mom shouts out from the other room.

"He does!"

She turns pink.

"Mom! Stop eavesdropping!"

Klaus only looks amused, though.

"Eavesdropping notwithstanding – she can certainly vouch for me."

"Ok, but like cook as in throw eggs in the pan or like grill a steak?"

His jaw drops and she immediately bursts into giggles.

"I look forward to proving my proficiency this evening. Seems, for this, proof is indeed needed."

She goes silent immediately at his reference to earlier, but he only smirks. Then, with one last pointed glance at her, makes his way to the front door.

Suddenly she can't help it, she speeds up to him in the doorway and pulls him back. Again, it actually works.

He looks down at her hand on his arm then up at her.

"You enjoy doing that, don't you?"

"Manhandling you? _Yeah_."

He seems to take that in then smirks, moving closer to her; her spine flattening against the door frame.

"And why, exactly, are you _manhandling_ me this time, love?"

His one arm goes up beside her, framing her body.

She struggles to breathe and it's even harder meeting his eyes.

"I-I just wanted you to know that I haven't forgotten about this morning," she says, her voice low, mainly to avoid her mother hearing this.

He frowns and it's teasing.

"What _about_ this morning? I don't recall anything of significance."

God, she shouldn't be so turned on by his taunting.

She decides to bite on her lip – dish out a little of what she's taking.

She doesn't know how she knows, but she immediately knows it works. It's like she can read lust in his eyes.

"Then I guess I'll just have to remind you tonight."

She says it in her lowest, most deliberate sexy voice – which turns out to be a really bad idea, because it takes the mood from mocking to bedroom in a matter of seconds.

She feels it in the air around them and pulsing through her body.

It doesn't help when he moves closer; dangerously close. She can feel his body up against hers and it takes her back to the dream, where there'd been nothing in between them. God, his body had felt amazing and that was just in the limited scope of dream sensations.

He leans down and she's officially hyperventilating when he puts his mouth to her ear.

"I look forward to it, Caroline."

Then he places a lingering kiss just beneath her earlobe, soft yet sultry. She closes her eyes for the five seconds it lasts, taking it all in. His intoxicating scent and the heat coming off his body so she's hot everywhere too; him bent over into her shoulder like they're lovers. It takes everything not to move; to appear unaffected.

Her eyes pop open again when he pulls away, his blue eyes dancing.

She lets out a breath before, as if nothing had happened, he turns and makes his way down the porch.

He's halfway down the walkway when he turns his neck to shoot her a sexy smirk over his shoulder.

Then, just like that, he's gone. And she feels like she needs a cold shower.

"Fuck," she mutters.

If that was just teasing; talking – what's the foreplay like?

Her mind reeling, she shuts the door then heads to her bedroom, desperate for a distraction. Honestly, what she really wants is to bury her fingers inside herself, tugging at her clit as she thinks about him pressed up against her. But, judging by earlier, it seems her mother's developed elephant ears in her old age and she's pretty sure there would be some screaming involved.

Her gaze lands on the journal, still open on her bed from when she'd rushed to Klaus' mansion this morning. She bites on her lip. She shouldn't read it.

 _"There were things I said and did that day that weren't… It wasn't my finest hour."_

 _"Whatever it was, it's in the past."_

 _"The past has a way of catching up to the present."_

 _"What if we don't let it?"_

She'd resolved, then, to let it go. He'd seemed so bothered by it; so haunted by whatever mistake he'd made that day. So she'd decided she'd kiss him and not read the rest of that entry.

It can't be anything good.

She wrings her hands, fidgeting, as she tries to convince herself to stick with that decision.

But it's definitely going to distract her and, also – wasn't that the whole point of the journals? To recover what had happened then? If Past Caroline had written about it, then it was important enough to read about.

Besides, she doesn't want to know only the good sides of him. She needs to see what the bad could be like – not evil he'd executed against others, but what it's like when his ire is aimed at her.

So, sitting down, she continues reading the entry.


	16. Chapter 16

Life is crazy, I'm sorry, thank you, I love you guys, I really hope you enjoy.

xx

* * *

 _He entered with something in his eyes that she couldn't read._

 _There was still the grief, yes; the sense that he had lost something. But there was more, and it seemed to draw his face closed, shutting him off to her._

 _Still, she asked. She asked because it was all they had._

 _"Did you talk to Rosemary?"_

 _He looked so tired, she realised. And gaunt. Like a soldier back from war._

 _Bonnie scrambled up with a clear of her throat._

 _"I'm sorry about Marcel, Klaus."_

 _She waited for half a second – like maybe she was reading his aura wrong and he would actually make some sort of reply or acknowledgement – then shot Caroline a quick look before making her way into the bathroom._

 _Finally Klaus met her eyes, his dark. An unpleasant shiver struck her spine._

 _"You're not to talk to the witches again. Am I understood?"_

 _She took a step back in surprise. Then she blinked._

 _"…Excuse me?"_

 _"I said you're not to talk to – "_

 _"I heard what you said, I'm just confused who you said it to, since last time I checked I'm not one of your minions and you don't give me orders."_

 _There was a strange sensation in her gut. The unkindness in his eyes definitely didn't put it to rest._

 _"You're free to take it as you wish. What you're_ not _free to do is talk to those witches."_

 _Fury began to grow in her stomach, roiling like the storm only he could cause._

 _"What about Bonnie? Can I talk to her? Or you? Or why don't you just put a muzzle on me?"_

 _She knew she should be thinking about his grief and Marcel and where what he was saying must've been coming from, but she couldn't. She could only see that look in his eyes; that of a threat, and suddenly she knew what the feeling was: betrayal._

 _They'd been partners, once, but now he was the enemy, because their agendas no longer lined up._

 _Her main concern was nobody else dying and his was her._

 _"I'm not being facetious, Caroline. You will obey or I will lock you in here."_

 _Just like that, she exploded._

 _Shoving him hard by the shoulders, she shouted._

 _"Fuck you!"_

 _He sped back up to her. "Why can't you grasp what's at stake here?!"_

 _"Funny, that's exactly what I was thinking about_ you _," she spat. "All you do is sit in your fucking study and make decisions all by yourself and all I do is sit here, trapped, while people_ die _for me! God! How can you not see how screwed up that is? Are you really that selfish? These aren't even just random humans anymore; these are our friends; the people we care about!"_

 _"Apologies," he growled, "I wasn't aware that I was dealing with Elena Gilbert."_

 _She scoffed._

 _"Elena may be a martyr and far from perfect, but she's fifty times the person you are."_

 _His jaw hardened and she took satisfaction from that, stepping closer so he was forced to meet her eyes dead on._

 _"As for locking me in here: go ahead. I fucking dare you. Try it and see how much fun it is to have Caroline Forbes locked up all day with nothing to do but escape. Oh, and don't forget_ where _I'd be escaping to."_

 _The shock was evident in his eyes as she referred to the outside – AKA where Reese's men were waiting for her._

 _She held his eyes for another smug moment before turning around, needing the moment to compose herself._

 _But it was a whole minute of silence, awkward, as she practically heard the cogs turning in his mind._

 _Then he stepped forward and laid a hand on one of her folded arms. Immediately she shook it off._

 _"Don't you dare touch me."_

 _He withdrew and she listened to them both breathing, trying to find a way to calm herself down._

 _Moving closer to the window, she pulled open the curtain a little, staring out at the inky night. This room had specifically been chosen for her, not just for size but because it was the furthest away from the main gates. She couldn't even see Reese's troops. But she knew they were out there, on the other side of the house, slaughtering._

 _So she imagined it. Imagined an army of sorcerers armed with heart-ripping machinery and torches as they advanced ever forward._

 _Imagined being recruited by someone who represented Klaus, being force-fed blood then having her neck snapped. Imagined being trained then forced to go out and fight to the death for a woman you'd never met._

 _Imagined being the woman's friend – for what it was worth – and volunteering to go out and end all this because it would please Klaus. Imagined being Marcel._

 _In her reflection she saw tears make their way down her cheeks and she stared, incredulously, remembering._

 _She'd been staring at herself trying to figure out whether to put her hair up or not._

 _That had been an actual problem, once upon a time. And now this was her life._

 _"I can't lose you, too," his voice came quietly from behind her._

 _Her gaze jumped up to see his reflection's head bowed._

 _Her voice came out soft, too._

 _"It's lose me now, for a while, or lose me forever when Reese's army storms in and rips out my heart."_

 _He looked up sharply and in the window, against the dark sky, she saw yellow strike like lightning through his eyes._

 _"That's not going to happen."_

 _"No, you just don't want it to. There's a difference, Klaus."_

 _She loved him. God, she loved him. But he also had the emotional maturity of a toddler sometimes._

 _With a step forward he bowed his head against hers, digging his face into the nape of her neck to speak into her hair._

 _"We're not there yet."_

 _"We don't have to wait till we get there."_

 _"Caroline – "_

 _"There are people dying." She gestured towards the window, where she still saw people fighting for her. "They haven't even met me. We were supposed to rule New Orleans – all we've done is destroy it. God, Marie Antoinette has nothing on me."_

 _"This isn't your fault."_

 _"But I can fix it."_

 _His sigh swirled along her collarbones._

 _"That spell's list of side effects spans pages."_

 _She knew. She'd seen it._

 _"_ Possible _side effects. And even if I experienced them all, it would be better than this."_

 _He shook his head._

 _"I can't."_

 _She kept staring out. The real view was of the garden. It was surprisingly pretty, which she'd teased Klaus endlessly about when she'd first gotten here. Was there a team of gardeners? Or did he have a lady friend who took care of it? Was she expected to take over that role now? Or, better yet, was it his pride and joy? She'd like to see him in garden gloves with a pair of shears, she'd informed him, giggling._

 _How had everything gone to shit so fast?_

 _"I love you, Caroline."_

 _Drawing a deep breath, she summoned courage._

 _"I don't want you to."_

 _She felt his body go rigid and she pressed her eyes closed. It hurt to hurt him. But she couldn't let it go unsaid anymore._

 _"Not if this is what it's gonna be like."_

 _She tried not to breathe, terrified of the consequences of her own words, but all sound had seemed to snap out of the room and she forced her eyes open. They met his in their reflections._

 _It was the most she'd ever seen him look like the classic vampire: staunch, pale; no soul. She knew he was feeling what she had minutes ago: betrayal._

 _Because she was thinking about the exact same thing she knew he was – what she'd told him right at the beginning of all of this._

Don't ever apologise for loving me. I don't care what kind of danger it puts me in. I want this. I want us. I want your love. Never doubt that.

 _She hesitated, every word seeming to petrify on her tongue, before forcing herself to speak._

 _"I know what I said, but that was before the humans and the dying; Marcel, and locking me in a room against my will – "_

 _"That was wrong."_

 _"Yes. But so is all of this. I can't – I can't do it anymore."_

 _She started to cry fully now, watching concern spread through his features._

 _"I didn't tell you or Bonnie, but… I've thought about giving up. I've thought about…" She could barely stand to let it off her tongue – that was why she hadn't been able to admit it; hadn't even been able to write it – but she couldn't hold it in a second longer. "Suicide," she sobbed, then immediately covered her face in shame._

 _She was supposed to be the strong one, the one who never gave up. But it was so damn hard. So damn hard to fight the depression rolling in in heightened waves, while pretending to be hunky dory for your best friend and the man you loved._

 _She was sunny, she was optimistic; she was dying inside._

 _"Caroline," he uttered._

 _There was a second of hesitation – then he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her as close as possible._

 _"I'm so sorry, love. I'm sorry."_

 _He kept repeating it as she cried, feeling as if she were finally getting to empty out the dregs of her soul. It felt so good to_ tell someone _. To make someone understand how hard it was to know that your life would put a stop to all the killing and dying. To make them see that there came a time when you had to ask yourself whether your life was really worth it all._

 _There came a time when you began to hate yourself because you realised that point would've been right at the beginning for Elena; she never would've willingly let a drop of blood spill for her._

 _But Caroline wasn't Elena. She was never the one. Never the one to do the right thing._

 _Only she could, now; finally. She just had to make him see it._

 _"I'm sorry," he whispered for the hundredth time, when her sobs had eventually dulled to dry heaves. "I shouldn't have said any of that; I didn't mean it, love."_

 _"Me too," she breathed, remembering her own venomous words. "Me neither."_

 _She laid her arms over his._

 _"Promise me you'll think about it."_

 _He was silent, hesitating, for a moment too long._

 _"I need more time."_

 _"Klaus – "_

 _"Give me more time. We can still win this, Caroline. One weakness and this will all be over."_

 _It had been months, she wanted to point out, but he knew that as well as she did._

 _She wiped at the tears on her face. "If you promise to think about it, I'll wait a little longer."_

 _In the reflection his eyes pleaded with her._

 _"Caroline – "_

 _"_ Promise _."_

 _He stared at her powerlessly, furiously, for a few more seconds, then looked away._

 _"I promise."_

 _"Thank you." He was still looking away and she frowned. "Klaus."_

 _Reluctantly he forced himself to meet her eyes in the glass again._

 _"I love you."_

 _He winced. "Don't."_

 _"It's true."_

 _He stared at her, hard, then began pulling away with something in his eyes she couldn't read._

 _Turning, she stared at him up close, trying to figure out what was behind the now-dark blue eyes, but it was impossible._

 _"Could you ever have imagined that party would go as wrong as it did?"_

 _"I doubt even George R. R. Martin could've, sweetheart," he attempted a smile._

 _She did, too, but it didn't work either._

 _"You should go." He recoiled a little, looking hurt, and she hurried to explain: "Bonnie must've pretended to take twenty showers by now."_

 _Immediately he understood and nodded briskly before heading towards the bedroom door. He froze for a moment with his hand on the doorknob, hesitating, but then he seemed to change his mind and left without another word._

 _With a sigh she turned to look out at the garden again, where in her mind it was covered in blood, not roses._

 **Then Bonnie came out and I told her the barest minimum. I wanted to talk about me and Klaus' fight more, but I honestly just couldn't. I barely managed to write about it (honestly, screw Elena for this entire idea because I swear to god it only makes me feel worse).**

 **Anyway. Today me and Klaus had our worst fight ever and it went nowhere close to ending in orgasms. I still feel awful about everything we both said, but… we made it through it.**

 **And now there's a light at the end of the tunnel.**

Caroline breaks down sobbing.

* * *

"Put it on the counter," Klaus directs.

The various minions obey, placing the groceries on the counter before exiting the kitchen again.

He's agitated. He knows he should be looking forward to this evening but it's impossible to focus. All he can think about is that day. About how she has yet to read about it.

Each time he intends to focus on the menu or begin a dish, he thinks about how she'd looked at him earlier. How she will look at him once she's read it. His hands refuse to be put to work because they're regretful – he should've gone through the journals; should've taken that one away.

What use is respecting her privacy if it causes him to lose her?

He places his hands flat on the counter to prevent himself from speeding back over there and all but pleading with her not to read it.

Instead he thinks back.

 _Opening the door, he saw Bonnie. One glance told him Caroline was in the bathroom._

 _"Caroline's in the shower," she informed him anyway._

 _He nodded, hesitating. He wasn't sure whether to wait or not. This had been his idea and yet he felt ridiculous._

 _"Nice flowers," Bonnie mused, her eyes saying something different entirely._

 _"Is there something you'd like to say, witch?"_

 _She held out her hands. "Just surprised by how clichéd the big bad hybrid is."_

 _He took a breath with the intention to calm down, reminding himself that he'd risked too much to save her, only to now turn around and crush her windpipe. And, after all, the truth was that he was no less surprised or disdainful of his methodology – but it had been all he could come up with._

 _He opted to say nothing, conveying his sentiments with a murderous glare. She absorbed it then swallowed, as if gaining the nerve to state something._

 _"She told me. About your promise."_

 _His eyes widened._

 _"You knew? About the spell?"_

 _"Of course I knew. She wanted my opinion."_

 _He scoffed. "And you thought it best to encourage her?"_

 _Her eyes were guilty but she shrugged helplessly._

 _"It's the best option we have, Klaus."_

 _He wanted to say it was no option at all, but held his tongue. She seemed to notice._

 _"You lied, didn't you? When you promised."_

 _"How dare you," he growled._

 _She pointed. "The roses."_

 _He looked at the bouquet of flowers in his own hand as if they'd sold him out. He supposed it was a common theme for today._

 _"I brought her something to cheer her up, not out of guilt."_

 _"The last time something was wrong, you sent a rose," she accused, her voice level._

 _Throwing the flowers down, he turned his back to her, rage beginning to build inside._

 _"Watch your mouth, witch."_

 _But it was a façade. Because she was right. He'd brought the roses because he felt guilty. He felt guilty because he'd lied._

 _"You promised but, really, you aren't ever going to allow the spell."_

 _He bristled. "The promise doesn't matter because the spell is irrelevant. It won't be necessary."_

 _"As powerful as you are, not even you can wish things into existence, Klaus. It's been months. Your best chance – your best ally – just died. This is the way."_

 _His hands curled into fists._

 _"You're inside here. You have no idea what it's like out there; what is necessary or not."_

 _"What I know is that you don't want to let her go. But you're going to lose her anyway, if you don't keep that promise."_

 _He spun. "And since when is that something you care about?"_

 _Bonnie sighed. "I care because I've lost too many good guys because I was so busy taking care of them – keeping them alive – that I forgot to take care of our relationship. I may not like you, but Caroline loves you, and I don't want to see you screw it up." She hesitated. Then, lowly: "She's in a dark place, Klaus. If she finds out she can't trust you after all, that might be the last straw."_

 _So Bonnie knew._

 _He wasn't sure if she'd perceived what he had not or if she'd simply overheard their conversation earlier._

 _Either way, he was struck breathless just thinking about Caroline's confession. It had almost brought him to his knees._ Suicide, _she'd uttered out, and his heart had stopped._

 _No. He needed her._

 _He forced himself to breathe now. He was still processing it, though he was sure that there was no way to ever fully do so. His actions and their repercussions – his love – had driven her to thoughts of suicide._

 _All this time he'd thought she was fine – wary, but fine – when in actuality she'd been having darker thoughts than he'd thought her capable of. She'd been drowning and instead of being there to pull her from it, he'd only been shovelling water onto her._

 _He could barely stand, thinking of his love – her, with the light behind her eyes and emanating from her smile – driving a stake through her own heart. It revolted him; utterly paralysed him._

 _He needed her._

 _"You're going to lose her," Bonnie enforced, forcing him to meet his eyes._

 _"No," he shook his head, refusing. "I won't. I can't."_

 _"Then don't. I won't tell her, Klaus," she pleaded. "But you promised to consider the spell when the time came. Stick to that promise. Stick to it, and I won't tell her that you lied."_

 _He swallowed, watching her; trying to figure out if he could trust her. But the witch had been trustworthy thus far, if a little too easily swayed by Caroline for his liking._

 _Thinking of her words, he let go of the image of Caroline with a stake in her heart, or one of Reese's devices in her chest._

 _Instead he saw her face falling when he had to admit that, not even for a second, had he meant that promise. That the one person she had to rely on in all of this had lied to her._

I don't want you to. Not if this is what it's gonna be like.

 _"I will," he breathed._

 _She let out a breath too, seeming relieved, and he heard the shower turn off._

 _Breaking eye contact with the Bennett witch, he grabbed up the flowers and vanished._

Klaus blinks.

It had all been so long ago. But his mistakes always caught up with him. That was the curse of living for as long as he had.

He jumps when his phone rings, Liz's ringtone sounding out against the dead quiet of the house. He sighs but reaches for it, answering hesitantly.

"Liz."

"Klaus," she says, and his entire body stiffens, hearing unconcealed panic in her voice. "It's Caroline. She's…"

"Liz, what's wrong?"

"I don't know. But it's bad. She was crying so much; I couldn't console her. And then she started speeding around and tearing down her room and – Caroline!"

There's utter fear in her voice as she shouts out at her daughter and, on instinct, Klaus speeds off without waiting for more.

* * *

"Caroline."

He almost misses her completely, with her speeding away and him speeding towards. Towards her, always towards her.

"Klaus," she blinks, stopping.

She's halfway down the pathway to her house and he's halfway up it. There's something in her eyes that he can't interpret.

He's never been as able to read her quite as well as he feels she's able to read him. There are exceptions, of course – when she wanted him, when she was sad, when she felt helpless – but he'd always assumed that he would get better at it, with time.

He'd thought they had forever.

"What's wrong?" he breathes.

He's breathless because his instincts have picked up on something his mind hasn't just yet.

"I…" she starts, but can't seem to finish.

Her eyes are scanning him and finally his brain catches up – he knows that look.

"You read the rest."

She wants to deny it, he can tell, but she nods.

"Caroline –" he almost fucks her name up, he's so busy stumbling over himself – "the-the things I said – I don't –"

She stops him with a shake of her head.

"It's not that."

He deflates, confused.

"It isn't?"

She looks off, into the direction she'd been speeding towards when he'd gotten here, considering for a moment.

Then she turns back and steps toward him.

"You know I've never really written anything before?"

He doesn't say anything; doesn't feel it's his place.

She continues: "The odd essay or motivational letter and tons of to-do lists, but I never really _wrote_ anything. That was always Elena's thing."

She rubs her arms and he watches, thinking about how vampires can't feel the cold.

"So reading these journals, it's so crazy. I mean, reading something by yourself about actual things you experienced without remembering either those things or actually writing it – it's pretty damn trippy." She smiles, a little. He doesn't. "But the thing is, Klaus, the way I wrote about us – reading those parts is even worse. There's so much emotion and uncertainty and… _intensity_. And they've always messed with my head, but that entry…"

She drifts off, meeting his eyes again for the first time since the beginning of her explanation and it's as if she expects him to understand, already, but he doesn't.

"I never read it," he reminds her, his tone low.

Add that to his list of regrets.

She steps away; turns away, frustrated.

"I know," she sighs.

There's awkward silence and he feels eyes on him. Turning, he sees Liz at the front door. She looks concerned and questioning. He nods at her to leave them alone and, after a second of hesitation, she turns to head back into the house.

He stares at Caroline's shoulder, where her hair hides his view of her face. It's something he'd appreciated about her shorter haircut.

"If there's something I can do, Caroline… I'll do it."

She turns slightly.

"What are you going to do, give me a hug and make it all better?"

"If that's what it would take."

He can just about glimpse the corner of a tiny sad smile.

"…Trust me, I _wish_ there were something that could change how I'm feeling right now."

He latches onto this; steps closer.

"What _are_ you feeling?"

There's a brief moment of silence, during which he hears the fear pumping through his own veins. As much as he wants to know what is troubling her, he also has the sense that it will be nothing good.

"Trapped," she breathes. "Just like she was – _I_ was, back then."

He steps closer and now her shoulder is to his chest. He wants to touch her but he doesn't know how. Doesn't know if he's allowed. Doesn't know what sort of touch would make either of them feel better.

"I don't understand, love."

She hesitates for a moment then turns to him fully. He notes the way her eyes widen at their proximity; how she doesn't move away.

"She felt so trapped and… regretful. You promised to show me the world and instead all she saw was the inside of that one room in that one house in New Orleans."

Shame floods his features visibly and suddenly he can't meet her eyes. She's not the only one who'd had regrets.

But she shakes her head, frustration creeping into her movements again. Whatever she intends to say, it's not coming out right and she keeps trying to course-correct, to no avail.

"I'm not trying to blame you, I just – I'm trying to make you understand what it was like reading those pages. It was like being trapped in a box with one air hole. Like she could see the world and just barely breathe it, but that was it."

"I'm sorry," he says anyway.

"I know," she nods. "This –" she gestures around at their current situation, "isn't because of that. Well, not because of you." She drags her hands through her hair then looks up to meet his eyes square on. "The truth is that I realised I feel just like she did. Trapped in living without really living. Except this time it's my own fault, not Reese's."

"You are living, Caroline –"

"No, I'm not!" she refutes, stepping away and spreading her arms to gesture. "What am I _really_ doing, Klaus?" She doesn't wait for his answer: "Playing catch-up! That's it. Reading those journals and getting to know the man she was in love with."

He feels as if someone had physically stabbed him, stumbling back, but he forces a straight face.

"That's the entirety of my life now," she continues, breathless from her speech. "And I want more. I want _different._ I can't just stand there staring out the window anymore."

In his mind he sees her staring out at the rose garden, her shoulders hard in their powerlessness. He'd been thinking that he'd never met anyone else who could be so downtrodden and determined at the same time; so ready to give up yet stubborn. He'd been thinking he couldn't lose her.

He can't lose her. Not again.

But all he's hearing is that he'd been a part of the life she no longer wants.

"I know it's not fair," she finishes, her voice tiny. "Every time things are going well, I change the game."

"Yes," he agrees, "but what happens now?"

When she meets his eyes again, he knows that she knows exactly what he is asking. But it's not the question she answers.

"Now I need time to think about things; about the kind of life I want. But for _right now_ – I want to say goodbye to my friends."

She steps back and his mind whirrs, remembering the cemetery for the supernatural Mystic Falls had erected decades ago. He'd had all her friends exhumed then flown back to be re-buried there.

He supposes Liz had told her.

"I could accompany you."

Again that sad smile.

"No offence, but I think it would be kind of weird to mourn my friends with someone who didn't like any of them for a second of their lives."

He wants to point out that that's not entirely true or that he could just accompany her to the cemetery, not join her at their graves, but he stops himself because, though he knows she isn't lying, he also knows that isn't the whole truth.

It's not just that she doesn't want him there with her, it's that she doesn't want him with her.

"…Alright."

She stares at him like she doesn't quite know what to do with that reply and he knows it's not his best, but he's bloody far from _his best_ at this moment so he leaves it at that, watching her flounder.

"Uh… so, um, and then I guess I'm going to burn those journals or something so –"

"Burn them?"

"Yeah… Unless you want them?"

He does. But, even after all his self-flagellating earlier, he doesn't know if he should take them.

"…I suppose I'm just surprised."

She rubs her arms again.

"…Yeah. I know it's going a bit far but… they've been a real crutch, and I don't mean in a good way. I mean, yeah, at the beginning they helped a lot, but now it's like they're controlling my life. And like I said, I want different."

He nods, though he's still not sure he entirely understands what she is trying to convey to him. Mainly he has gathered that, progressively, she wants to burn all bridges to her past. And he is on those bridges.

Realising he intends to make no response, she continues: "So, I was going to say, I won't be able to make it to dinner tonight after all."

He swallows.

"Of course not."

Her eyes search his face, flicking from his forehead – straining with the urge not to frown and shatter the façade – to his eyes then down to his mouth. He knows she's looking for something that would imply discontent; malice. But his mind is elsewhere. He's thinking of earlier, when he'd pressed himself up against her and listened to her heart race.

He doubts George R.R. Martin could've foreseen this, either.

Caroline looks torn: on the verge of leaving, but she's wringing her hands.

"Klaus…"

He raises a brow in question. He could do more to help her along, but he finds himself wanting this to be as difficult as possible for her. He won't help her make it easy to leave him behind.

"I just wanted to say… I know I've thanked you a lot over the past few days, but I never thanked you for this. For putting up with… well, all the times I changed the game. Thank you. Really."

"Why does the way you say that sound like goodbye?"

He can't help the acidic fury that boils beneath his tone.

Her mouth forms to say what her eyes are already relaying: _I'm sorry._

But then she changes her mind and says something else instead: "I don't know what anything means right now."

She stares at him for a while longer, searching again, with so much guilt still behind her blue eyes. Then, with a sad sigh, she begins to turn.

She begins to leave.

Without thinking about it or really meaning to, he finds himself reaching for her; forcing her to stop with a hand around her forearm.

She looks down at his hand with surprise; he with trepidation.

She has enjoyed being able to draw him back or hold him – but he actually can. He can keep her here. He has the physical strength to do so.

They meet each other's eyes and he immediately relinquishes his hold, fisting his fingers instead.

He remembers Liz's words as Caroline draws her gaze from his.

 _She's not going to run._

But she does. Away from him, always away from him.


	17. Chapter 17

Hi, everyone! As always, thank you for your patience and lovely reviews. I'm not as happy with this chapter as I could be because the plan was to have it and the next chapter be one chapter, but I thought it just made sense to get something out to you guys ASAP instead. Hence why I also haven't edited it as much as I would've liked to/usually do. Anyhow, I hope it's worth it and you guys enjoy it, please let me know!

P.S. If you're an ODS reader, I promise the epilogue is still coming. Life continues to kick my ass so the precious little I'm able to write hasn't been directed there for a while, but I promise you there will be an epilogue. I've more than started on it.

Ok, love you, bye xx

* * *

She wipes away the last of her tears with the back of her sleeve as she pushes open the gate.

With a sniff, she steps into the crypt. She doesn't want to know what she looks like, considering she'd hardly been runway-ready back at the house, and that been before the whole confrontation with Klaus and three hours of crying in a cemetery.

The tears almost start right back up as she hears Elena's voice.

 _But you don't need a birthday. You need a funeral._

Caroline tries for a smile as she remembers Elena's idea to have a wake with a birthday cake. She'd been so sad then, so lost. Stuck in a filler year.

 _"You're not stuck, Caroline."_

 _"Yeah, I am."_

And she is now, too.

Which is maybe why she'd found herself coming here, to the same crypt they'd come to that night. Not long before Tyler had bitten her. Mere hours before she'd spoken with Klaus for the first time. When she'd almost died.

But she hadn't. Nor had she in New Orleans. And yet here she is, living as if she had. Living as if dead. _Wallowing in it._

 _You need to say goodbye to your old life so that you can move on with your new one._

She nods as if Elena really is here to say it again.

She doesn't smile this time, though. Instead she draws a long shaky breath.

"Here lies Caroline Forbes."

She looks around at the dark depths of this place of death. Here is where she has to leave behind a piece of herself. A piece she doesn't know fully yet, but has to let go of nonetheless.

 _Cheerleader. Miss Mystic Falls. Third-grade hopscotch champion._

"She had friends, friends who were willing to die for her… and _did_."

She makes her voice stop shaking before she continues.

 _Friend. Daughter. Overachiever._

"She had a life I don't remember; experiences I can't make sense of."

 _She was seventeen and she had a really good life._

"But she lived. She existed. She was loved."

 _So rest in peace so that she can move forward._

"So rest in peace so I can move forward." Her eyes sweep over the place, wishing she could still see her friends. Wishing she could really talk to them. "I'm sorry," she breathes; sobs out.

It should've been up to her to keep them alive; to keep all those last memories of them alive. But she doesn't have them and she won't try desperately to salvage them any longer.

She sits down as the tears begin to come freely again.

"I promise I won't forget you," she sobs loudly, "I won't forget _more_."

But she can't live in a past she can't remember. Not anymore. She can't stare out that window any longer. A garden full of roses below; a life all around her – it's the same.

"Rest in peace." She takes another deep breath and it's just as shaky as the first. "Rest in peace, Caroline Forbes."

 _Okay, make a wish._

But she has no idea what she wants.

* * *

She walks slowly up the walkway to her house.

She wants to stay here, she thinks. Maybe it's pathetic, to still be living with her mom, but she wants to spend as much time with her as possible while she still can. Besides, she's all she has.

Should she get a job? What does a vampire do in 2050?

She needs to find out more about 2050, she decides solidly. Besides that one time in the restaurant and walking through the streets in New York, she hadn't really had that much experience with the future, and Mystic Falls was always at least a decade behind the rest of the world. So far as she can tell, the only thing that had changed is that the supernatural are no longer a secret.

Which is no small feat, but counts more as doing something the rest of the world isn't than catching up to it.

Research on 2050 is definitely needed.

Mentally she skips that and goes on to the next item on her list as she enters the house.

Her wardrobe. She'd packed up most of it earlier but she still needs to get rid of it all. Though, really, she first needs new clothes.

"Caroline?"

"Yeah, Mom, it's me!"

She doesn't go find her mother, though, she heads straight to her bedroom. There's so much to be done. So much to get rid of.

She has whipped open her cupboard doors when her mother makes it to her bedroom door.

"Baby, what's wrong? Where did you go? What happened?"

"I'm okay, Mom." She winces. "I'm sorry I took off like that, I should've said something."

Liz sets aside her walker and folds her arms.

"I saw you and Klaus talking."

Caroline closes her eyes.

"I really don't want to talk about it."

There's a long silence before Liz speaks again.

"I'll be in my room if you change your mind."

When she opens her eyes again, her mother is gone and Caroline kicks the door closed. She needs to get started and the last thing she wants to think about is him.

Shaking off the thought, she forces herself to focus on the few items of clothing still hanging in her cupboard. Most of them are things she really should've discarded forever ago.

She reaches for a green turtleneck that is about two sizes two small then a tank top that has two holes in the side. They both go in one of the half-filled boxes crowding her room. There's her favourite top, with grime all over it. She'd thrown it in the wash multiple times after a faceoff with one of their countless antagonists, but it had never been the same again. It goes in the box too.

Nothing stays, she decides. Not even underwear.

Making a mental note to ask her mom about all things related to online shopping, she grabs a few more items and discards them before she's finally faced with the very back of her cupboard. She sighs, looking at the black dress there.

She'd bought it with the hopes of wearing it on a fancy date one day but had realised soon after that there was nowhere in Mystic Falls nice enough to wear it to, and also it was sort of slutty.

But it had been too pretty to return so, with a last forlorn look at its insane cleavage and slit to the thigh, she'd banished it to the back of her cupboard.

With a sigh she reaches for it, ready to feel the material that had clung to her every curve in the fitting room. But that's not what happens.

She touches the cool fabric and suddenly she's sick to her stomach. Her knees wobble and then she's no longer there. She's plunged into somewhere else; some other time.

 _Caroline looked around with a sigh._

 _Everyone had said their congratulations. Plenty of people had come up to her to get her to sign their yearbooks and she'd thanked her past minions for being adequate. Now she wanted to go._

 _Problem was, it had been less than an hour since she'd arrived and she didn't doubt that her friends would give her funny looks if she tried to leave now. Especially since Damon and Elena had arrived looking beyond ecstatic – holding hands – and Caroline Forbes was supposed to love parties._

 _And she_ had _kind of liked this one. It was fine. She was just over it._

 _Though that was unfair – she'd been over it since the moment she stepped into it. After that conversation with Klaus, walking into a house full of raging teenagers had felt tantamount to being stabbed with a rusty blunt knife. Everywhere she looked, she saw people who had peaked – this was as good as it would ever get for them. And it felt so wrong to be here too, as if she were one of them._

 _She took another gulp of beer, which tasted like her mood._

 _"Caroline!"_

 _She repressed an eye roll as she rotated to face the source of the voice._

 _"Happy graduation, Diana," she said, trying her best to inject it with some enthusiasm._

 _"You said that to me already," Diana informed her kindly. "I came to tell you that there's someone at the back door for you."_

 _Caroline raised a brow and was about to ask who it was when Diana promptly disappeared back into the throng of people dancing. With another sigh, Caroline began to make her way through the crowd, pushing people away as she tried to remember the layout of Grant's house._

 _Finally she made it to the open back door. Well, almost all the way to it, anyway._

 _She stopped in her tracks when she saw him._

 _"Klaus."_

 _He half-smiled and she suddenly felt very incongruous. God, what did she even look like? She'd spent the better part of an hour drinking beer and feeling sorry for herself._

 _Swiping a hand down her top and hoping against hope that she looked at least half as decent as when she'd left him earlier, she stepped closer._

 _"What are you doing here?"_

 _His gaze left her for a quick second, surveying the inside of the house._

 _"You know, I feel as if I should've made some sort of speech. Congratulated the class for making it to graduation alive with me in town."_

 _She smiled. "You're right, that's an accomplishment. Especially since I seem to remember you killing a few of them."_

 _He shrugged. "It happens. Natural selection and all that."_

 _She was tempted to argue that but instead just stood there, searching his face._

 _God, she'd been so sure she'd never see him again. And now here he was, in all his graduation-saving suit-wearing smirky glory._

 _"Come outside with me?" he asked quietly._

 _"Oh." She'd forgotten he couldn't come in. "Right. Yeah. Of course."_

 _Setting down the Solo cup, she stepped past the threshold and he moved away a little then started to walk. She fell into step beside him and it was if the past hour may hadn't even happened. They were right back to walking away from the bleachers and towards her car._

 _"I don't understand," she professed eventually. "You said you were leaving."_

 _"I know. But I realised I couldn't. Not without you."_

 _She stopped. Refusing to make eye contact, she shook her head._

 _"You have before. And I'm still not coming with you."_

 _There was a short moment of silence during which she still kept her eyes on her shoes._

 _Then: "I know."_

 _That made her frown and her chin shot up._

 _"Then I really don't understand."_

 _"I'm staying, Caroline."_

 _She felt short of breath._

 _"You're… s-staying?"_

 _He nodded and she frowned._

 _"At the risk of sounding like a broken record: I don't understand. An hour ago you were dead set on leaving. What changed?"_

 _His head hung and he turned away, beginning to walk again. She followed._

 _"What you said, after goodbye, it bothered me."_

Guess I'll see you in my rearview mirror.

 _He shook his head, as if hearing it again just as she was._

 _"I couldn't bear the thought of_ that _being the last time we ever saw each other. Not when I knew there was something I could do to change it."_

 _Folding her arms, she watched him. She had to be careful. She couldn't go getting excited or interpreting this for something it wasn't._

 _"How long are you staying for?"_

 _He was watching her now, too. They'd come to another standstill, out in the middle of the forest._

 _"Indefinitely."_

 _Her lips parted with a gasp and he stepped closer. She tensed and rightly so, because he drew a tender hand up to her cheek. Just where he'd kissed her earlier._

 _"Say something."_

 _Beneath his soft touch, she began to relax._

 _"What do you want me to say?" It was supposed to come out snappy, but it sounded soft and hypnotised instead._

 _"That you're happy."_

 _Her eyes jumped to his._

 _"Of course I am."_

 _His eyes widened, like that was about the last thing in the world he'd expected her to say. But it was true. She'd spent the past hour morose, regretting her stupid decision not to just ask him to stay._

 _It was all she'd wanted. And now it had come true._

 _And considering she hadn't been able to ask him to stay, the least she could give him was the truth now._

 _Her hand went to his, caressing it as they simply stared at each other, taking one another in. Why had they over-complicated something so easy?_

It's not easy. He's a killer and a monster.

 _But she didn't care. She wanted whatever this was, at least a taste. There was no harm in trying, was there? Not when he'd stayed of his own accord. But he had to know._

 _"Klaus, I don't – I can't promise you anything –"_

 _"Will you go on a date with me?"_

 _Her eyes widened._

 _"A date?"_

 _"Yes. A second one."_

 _She rolled her eyes. "That wasn't a date."_

 _He's amused. "We can argue about it on our second date. At the moment, though, I'm awaiting an answer."_

 _She watched him, her heart beating wildly in her chest._

 _"…Yes."_

 _A slow smile started on his lips and in that moment she couldn't deny she loved him. Maybe just a little, maybe it was just the beginning – but it was there. She couldn't stop watching the way the happiness spread from one corner of his mouth to the other. One word and she'd made the big bad Hybrid really smile._

 _"I trust your passport is up to date?" he said as he quickly stepped away, suddenly all business._

 _She let out a breath, suffering extreme whiplash._

 _"Wait,_ what _? My passport? I don't even have a passport."_

 _He shrugged. "No matter. Can you be packed by morning?"_

 _She stared at him in a stupor._

 _"Klaus – where are we going?"_

 _It seemed to, all at once, dawn on him that he'd taken about ten steps in his mind without her. He stepped in to her space again and, swear to god, she glimpsed actual excitement in his eyes._

 _"There's this resort in the Swiss Alps, love, it's extraordinary. I've –" He cut himself off and seemed to size her up; weigh whether he could trust her with this. Then he continued: "I've always wanted to go, but I wanted to go with someone I cared about. And Rebekah detests Switzerland, for some reason."_

 _She blinked a bunch of times. That had just been an information overload._

 _But, stepping closer to him so she smelled his cologne, she forced herself to focus on the most important thing._

 _"And I'm someone you care about?"_

 _He tugged lightly on a strand of her hair, a look of pure affection in his eyes._

 _"Sweetheart, you exceed those parameters by far."_

 _She blinked some more, absorbing this. Then she stepped even closer, till they were chest to chest, and leaned up so her cheek was up against his stubble and she could speak into his ear._

 _"Then I want to go there with you."_

 _He didn't say anything but she felt his jaw stiffen and felt the heat of his hand near her waist. He wanted to touch her. And she wanted him to._

 _But he didn't._

 _"I should go." She nodded, clearing her throat as she stepped away and they both put distance between each other. "My house isn't going to unpack itself."_

 _That made her smile, to know that he really was staying. For her._

 _"Can I walk you back?"_

 _"Hm?"_

 _She looked up from the reverie she'd been lost in to realise that he wanted to take her back to the party. But she wanted to stay just here for a while, and even then she wasn't sure she'd be going back. High school was in the past. She wanted her future._

 _"No. I'm ok."_

 _"Alright." His eyes gleamed. "I'll see you tomorrow, Caroline."_

 _She smiled and he'd begun to walk off when she called him back._

 _"Klaus." He stopped and turned, his brow a question. "Thank you. For staying."_

 _He smiled again, slow and beautiful, and she realised she was in so much damn trouble._

 _Then just like that he disappeared and she stood there grinning like an idiot in the middle of the forest, rubbing her arms as she thought about going to the freaking Swiss Alps with him. As a_ date _._

 _God. What was she going to wear?_

 _Her mind jumped from item to item in her cupboard and she was just about to groan when she remembered the slutty black dress in the back. Perfect._

* * *

Caroline feels as if she's choking, making her way up off the ground and onto all fours.

"Oh my god," she breathes, trying to get air into her oesophagus that doesn't feel like battery acid.

Pushing herself back, she leans against the cupboard with a hand to her eyes.

Eventually she gets back to breathing normally – she concentrates on doing only that.

She can't believe how long that memory had been; how powerful its after-effects. Tilting her neck, she looks up at the dress still on its hanger.

She doesn't understand. First memories had come through dreams, usually because something had incited them while she was awake, and now one had come while she was still conscious and knocked her off her feet – just because she'd touched something. What the hell is going on?

Giving the dress a wide berth, she makes her way to the box full of journals. She's so sick of all of this and she can't help thinking that it's all the journals' faults. Like maybe they're unlocking emotions that makes her brain want to follow suit.

And if it were consistent – if she knew she would get all her memories back that way – then she'd be fine with it. But that clearly isn't how it works. And she doesn't plan on playing along anymore.

"You've all got to go," she says, dumping both small boxes out onto her bed.

The other bigger box she'd found joins them. Unceremoniously she begins tossing all of them into it, so she's not surprised when one falls. What surprises her is when she picks it up and catches sight of a few words in her own handwriting.

Explicit words.

* * *

Liz walks in and her daughter, cross-legged on the floor, drops the journal she'd been holding as if she'd been burned.

"You ok, baby?"

"Yeah, totally ok," she smiles innocently.

"Are you sure? You look a little… flushed," Liz tries to place the expression.

"One hundred percent… Um, Mom?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Did you read these?"

Liz breaks into a toothy grin. "You told me you'd cancel my pension fund if I so much as opened a box."

Caroline absorbs this then begins tossing all the journals surrounding her into one box. Then she jumps up and speeds out.

"Caroline?" Liz calls out, turning her walker around.

She's come to realise that having a daughter who can move at super speed when you're in your seventies is hard on the joints.

By the time she gets to the kitchen, Caroline is setting down the lighter fluid and reaching for the matches.

"Honey, what are you doing?"

"I don't want them anymore, Mom. It's too much, I can't…"

"Caroline, think about this."

She spins to face her. "I have, Mom! This is the only way."

"And those journals are the only account of those memories. If you burn them, they're gone forever. There aren't any copies and there's no one else who had those experiences. For most of that time you were in that room with Bonnie…"

Liz lets this hang, scared to say the words, but confident her daughter will understand her meaning.

Caroline covers her face with her hands.

"I know. I know they're my only link to them. I know Bonnie's dead and this is all I have to remember her by."

Liz steps closer. She catches a glimpse of the box in the sink, filled to the brim with journals and wet with lighter fluid. She can't let her daughter do this.

"Then why are you burning them?"

Suddenly Caroline grabs Liz by her shoulders and she sees the kind of sadness in her eyes she hasn't seen there since that first day she'd come back.

"Because I _don't remember_. Everything in those books, it may have happened but to me they're just words. I want to _remember_ Bonnie – I want to remember them all."

She tries to understand, she does, but all she can think of is how Caroline will never be able to go back. And, though her daughter has certainly always been the type of person to go the whole hog, she also has her share of regrets because of it.

"Then we can put them in the basement –"

"No, Mom. You don't understand. They need to not exist. The past thirty-eight years never happened. There is only now."

Liz can't follow the vampire-speed action – suddenly all she sees is flames jump to life and the box of matches in her daughter's hand. Her jaw drops and Caroline pulls her away from the fire licking at the box and the books inside.

"Caroline…"

She looks up at her daughter and sees tears coming from her blue eyes. But they're hard and her jaw is harder. So Liz looks away, back to the flames.

And together they watch the past burn.

* * *

~ The next day ~

* * *

Klaus answers the call after the fourth ring, not even bothering with a hello.

"How's paradise?" Damon says, by way of greeting.

"Fuck off, mate," Klaus responds, but doesn't hang up because he knows why he's calling.

It's what's considered compassion, he supposes. He can almost hear Caroline whispering into his ear: _He's hurt and jealous. You have something he can't have. Be nice._

"That good, huh?" Damon intuits. "She getting any memories back yet?"

"No," he sighs, leaning back to stare up at the roof. "And I don't think it's a 'yet' sort of situation."

Silence as he processes. Then: "Wait, you don't think she's gonna get them back at all?"

He wants to stab the vampire. He really doesn't need this reminder.

"That was always a possibility."

Damon whistles through his teeth.

"Shit, Klaus."

He lets out a long sigh.

"Yes."

"You guys in Mystic Falls?"

"Yes."

"How's Liz?"

"About as well as one can be at her age, I would imagine."

"Good. Happy to have Caroline back, huh?"

"What is the point of this phone call, Damon?"

There's another long silence.

Klaus wonders whether it would be better to hang up, or whether even this foul vampire's voice is making his situation even decimally more tolerable. The silence is almost as deafening as the bongo drums of his misery.

"I guess I wanted to hear about how well things are going. Wanted to torture myself. Thought you'd have her back by now."

"Yes, well, sorry to disappoint."

"Wish life could send me a Hallmark card with that on it."

This makes Klaus chuckle and he's reminded of the eleven years spent with this man. Both missing the woman they loved, both mourning Stefan, neither wanting to be anywhere near the other. But they'd made it work. Mostly like this – self-deprecating humour and recognising the endless list of places they'd rather be right then. Musing about the idiocy of their targets or planning the next day's slaughter.

"What is it you want, Damon?" he asks lightly.

The vampire hesitates for a few moments. He's still not used to asking for favours from the hybrid, though he's been known to rave about the privilege when he's drunk (" _Original Hybrid got my ass covered and any favour I want is mine whenever I want it_ " – an exaggeration, but not a lie).

"Nothing. Just wanted to know when you plan on blowing out of town. Wanted to visit…"

He doesn't have to say.

"Caroline went yesterday."

It had been a whole day since he'd seen her; since she'd run away from him. Liz had sent the bare minimum of news: that she was spending most of her time holed up in her room, making all sorts of noise moving things around and complaining loudly about international delivery.

"Great," Damon groans. "I'm gonna be sweeping up flowers again,"

"That's what happens when you have a perceived saint for a brother."

"Yeah. At least when I'm six feet under, no one will have to worry about raking flowers from my grave."

"See, that's the difference between you and me, mate. I don't intend on _being_ six feet under."

"Good, because the one lone flower from your sister would probably rot as soon as it touched the soil."

He laughs again. "A thinly veiled comparison to the devil – I'm gonna take that as a compliment."

"Take it however you like. When are you getting your half-breed ass outta my town?"

This time Klaus is the one to hesitate, not wanting to admit to the truth; admit defeat.

But then he does because, maybe, if he says it out loud then he'll finally be able to accept it.

"With the way things are going… likely sooner rather than later."

Another silence. Damon isn't the world's most intelligent vampire but even he immediately knows what that means.

"…Ok, so then you'll let me know? When you leave?"

"I will."

"Ok."

"Goodbye, Damon."

But he doesn't hang up, because the other man is too silent and he can practically hear the ellipsis hanging in the dead air between them.

"Listen, man…"

He does. He just listens. There is nothing more he has to say; nothing else he is willing to offer. He already feels pathetic.

"At least you have her."

He closes his eyes, tight.

Yes. That he has. She is alive, and that matters above all else. That is what they fought for; what he will never regret for a second in his life. Caroline is alive and that is of the utmost importance.

But, still. He has lost her nevertheless.

"You'll get over her one day," Klaus half-tries reciprocating the attempt at a better mood.

"Nah," Damon sniffs. "We both know it doesn't work that way. No other women exist. And even if they could, just the thought of her; the vice that grips my chest every time… it hurts like fuck."

Klaus lets out a breath of agreement. Elena is nothing compared to Caroline. But if anyone knows a portion of his anguish, it is Damon.

"You know what I do, though…" Damon starts thoughtfully, "Sometimes, when I figure I'm strong enough, I think about the good times. And it's worth it. All of it."

Klaus opens his eyes, stares at his phone for a second, then ends the call.

He stares at it for a few moments longer then sets it aside and leans his head back again, closing his eyes.

And he thinks about the good times.

* * *

 _Klaus looked at Caroline's text again then sent her one back saying he was here._

 _Here, but confused. She'd said to go to the pool, but there were several people working at the door, some pulling down covers over the giant glass doors that led outside while others set up signs that said there was maintenance planned for tonight._

 _He was wondering if Caroline knew her night-time swimming plans were to be impeded, when one of the Swedes approached him._

 _"You can go through to the pool, Mr Mikaelson."_

 _He raised a brow then decided not to ask._

 _"Alright."_

 _He opened the door for him and Klaus exited the hotel onto the huge deck where the pool shimmered under the few lights casting a glow in the dark._

 _His phone vibrated and he checked it._

 **Good. Now get in the pool.**

 _Klaus sighed, about to respond that he wasn't in the mood for a swim, when she sent another._

 **No arguing.**

 _He couldn't help it, he smiled. Then he started to undress, taking down his zipper and pulling off his jacket and Henley._

 _He was stepping into the pool when the door opened to let out various waiters, each carrying a platter of canapes. One set down champagne too before they all promptly left again._

 _With a smirk, Klaus made his way to the end of the pool, from where he had a perfect view of the doors. One of the last covers were still being pulled down and through it he watched several guests react to the news that they weren't allowed to use the pool. Then the last cover went down and he turned to survey the area instead._

 _Caroline had clearly tired of him being the only one in charge of plans since they'd arrived in Switzerland and had forged ahead with her own. He was inclined to let it unfold, at least for the moment._

 _He was just beginning to second-guess that when the door opened and Caroline stepped out. She was wearing her bikini and a sarong._

 _"It's about time."_

 _"Good things come to those who wait," she smiled teasingly._

 _He was about to counter when she started to undo the knot on the sarong and his lips re-sealed._

 _She didn't slow down, though, she kept walking and the sarong billowed out behind her as it came loose. She stepped down into the pool and Klaus watched her every movement with baited breath._

 _"I was wondering," she started, beginning on the zip on her bikini top, "where you stood on skinny dipping."_

 _The zip was coming down ever-so-slowly, as if his answer determined the speed. He didn't remove his eyes from where her thumb and forefinger enveloped the zipper._

 _"I'm fully for it."_

 _She grinned and the rip of the zip rang through the air. He watched hungrily as her top came away and she discarded it on the surface of the water._

 _"Good."_

 _He licked his lips as her nipples perked up in the icy evening air. He wanted them on his tongue. He wanted all of her on his tongue._

 _But, she was strolling. He needed to match her pace. He needed to wait._

Good things come to those who wait.

 _He drew a shallow breath to help the pretence of nonchalance._

 _"Then I suppose it was you who had the pool closed off to the rest of the guests? Finally putting your compulsion to good use? And by good, I do mean wicked."_

 _She giggled. "Well maybe your evilness is starting to rub off, Mr We Need To Have Dinner At The Chef's Personal Table."_

 _He chuckles at her recounting his stunt last night._

 _"That was a harmless endeavour; whereas I saw a young boy in swimming trunks looking rather upset."_

 _"The chef's wife was in tears!"_

 _"She was being dramatic."_

 _He smirked and lowered his chin, looking at her through his lashes._

 _She smiled. "She was."_

 _He watched as she undid the ties on the sides of her panties. She was two steps away now._

 _"Who brings a child to a five-star resort in the Swiss Alps?"_

 _"My thoughts exactly," she grinned._

 _She was right in front of him. The scent of her was overwhelming._

 _He placed both hands on her hips and pulled her closer._

 _"Really?" he confirmed. "You don't need any more of my evilness to_ rub off _on you?" He pressed right up against her, hard, and she tried and failed to suppress a moan._

 _"Oh, I_ definitely _do. I'm still way too good."_

 _He chuckled into her neck, surprised by how much she could taunt him._

 _"We'll see about that."_

 _He kissed her then, hard, and she responded in kind, her chest already heaving against his._

 _Her lips were ice cold. It was something he'd never liked about vampires – their skin hard and unyielding; too telling of the death within their veins. But with her it was different. Her skin was cold_ in spite of _– because she was sunlight, so cold was all but akin to magic._

 _And he liked it. He liked how it felt when his lips touched hers and suddenly she was on fire everywhere. He liked knowing he'd left his mark. He liked reaching down and feeling her feverish thighs, pulling his hand higher until she was keening and he could find the searing flesh –_

 _She pulled away to whisper into his ear._

 _"You're overdressed."_

 _He was. He was apparently too slow to act, though, because her hands went to his boxer briefs and began to push. Her hands were shaky, though, and the underwear stuck to his skin in the water. She grunted then just tore it off him._

 _He chuckled, ready to tease her about her impatience, but she pushed him back harshly and put her lips to his. They were burning hot, just like the tongue she pressed into his mouth._

 _She didn't want to wait anymore and he wanted to thank every deity known to man._

 _Quickly he flipped their positions so his body was shielding hers in case anyone came outside. She hardly seemed to notice – her eyes were hooded when he pulled away and she grabbed violently for his hips, pulling him closer as she laced her legs around him._

 _He put one hand on her shoulder to steady himself before pressing into her, fast and deep. She moaned and he forced himself to settle, stay still, so she could adjust. But it was her who began tilting her hips; bucking in to him with sounds that echoed the insane amount of pleasure starting at his cock and emanating so strongly, he couldn't be sure he wouldn't explode. It had been a real concern the first time he'd been inside her._

 _Now, though, he began to move his hips, circling and pressing. It was a challenge to go slow with her, but he would try._

Good things come to those who wait.

 _He closed his eyes and breathed, leaning in so he got a better angle and he could taste the side of her neck. She hissed at both._

 _He was trying not to pay too much attention to her piercing hot flesh; how soft it all was around him. Her nails breaking into his skin and the tiny sounds she was making that, not too long ago, he'd spent night upon night imagining in his dreams._

 _He opened his eyes to take it in fully, only to find her head thrown back and her mouth relaxed into the most carefree smile._

 _The way he felt when he was inside her was terrifying._

 _Not because of his feelings for her – those he'd reluctantly made his peace with too long ago – but because of how powerful her effect on him was. There was sex – basic, primitive fornication – and then there was sex with Caroline. There was no one word or even combination of words to describe it. It simply was._

 _And it was in that overwhelming sense of incomparison where the problem lay: he needed her too much. He couldn't live life without this again._

 _What a fool he'd been, surviving for a thousand years, thinking it was worth it. When really, all that time had only been worth this moment; every moment he was inside her. No other method of living could ever measure up to this._

 _Life without her was not life. And he was terrified._

 _"You're looking at me like that again."_

 _This was news and he tried to shake it off; tried to school his features into something different, but she grabbed his face._

 _"No. Don't stop."_

 _He watched her with wonder as she held his eyes. He was still getting used to her like this – what she wanted from him, what was too much; what she didn't like. He looked forward to having forever; to spending each moment of it acquainting himself with everything she could ever possibly want from him. To making sure she had it._

 _He wanted to tell her, but suddenly her eyes fluttered closed and she started writhing._

 _"Oh, don't stop. Klaus, don't stop," she moaned under her breath, the words coming out like sobs as her nails dug harder into his bloodied arms._

 _She was biting her lip in fantastic agony. She was close and he was thankful – he'd been ready to burst since a moment after entering her. He pressed his lips to hers and her other hand went to his hair, digging her fingers deep into his scalp as she kissed him hard._

 _Then all at once her back arched as she screamed and he let go too so they came together, the water around them splashing erratically as they soared._


	18. Chapter 18

There are many terrible things happening in the world today. One of which is a massive storm happening in my beloved home town, the likes of which hasn't been seen since the 80s. It's bringing relief to the drought we've been suffering; however, it's also knocking down people's houses, washing away their belongings and placing the lives of homeless people in danger. Me, though? I'm working from my bed instead of having to venture outside, with some amazingly warm sunlight bursting into my room every now and then. So because I feel so fortunate, in my lunch hour, I thought I would pass on some of that happiness in some small way by putting up an update. Feel free to keep it going - #PayItForward. Perhaps by leaving a review ;)

Love you guys. Stay safe and good luck with anything terrible you're dealing with today.

xx

* * *

Liz's ringtone breaks through his dream.

Klaus' eyes open slowly; reluctantly. He would much rather stay asleep. But the ringing doesn't stop and eventually he reaches for the phone with a sigh.

"Liz."

"You sound like you're asleep."

"I _was_." He rubs at his eyes.

"It's after six."

It is. Dusk is beginning to seep into the mansion.

"I'm aware."

"Have you had a shower today?"

"That's not a very polite thing to ask someone."

"I'm taking that as a no. You have to take care of yourself, Klaus."

"You know, you're not _my_ mother."

But he sits up on the sofa, trying to re-acquaint himself with his current situation.

"I'm aware. You'd have a lot more manners if I was."

He smirks at that.

"Most likely."

"So… shower?"

"Very well," he sighs. Then his eyes close. "…How is she?"

Liz is quiet for a second. Then: "Better." She laughs a little. "You know, two weeks ago I had zero people to look after and now it seems I have two."

"The option to have a very strapping lad taking care of _you_ remains open."

Now she laughs openly.

"I suppose I'd be willing to look at a few portfolios."

He chuckles too – Caroline could sell a camel sand – before they say goodbye and he speeds upstairs. However, his mind is elsewhere as he starts up the shower.

 _"What's wrong?"_

 _She'd joined him at their dinner table about two minutes ago and yet there was tension in her shoulders. She kept looking over his shoulder at something before looking away again with something strange in her eyes._

 _"Nothing," she shook her head._

 _He attempted staring her down but it didn't work._

 _Except it happened again, not even a full minute later, and this time he turned in time to see a man behind them – at a table with his wife and daughter – glaring in their direction. He made eye contact with Klaus filled with malice for another second then looked away._

 _The hybrid turned back to Caroline with a frown._

 _"Is that man bothering you?"_

 _"No."_

 _The answer was too fast. His eyes narrowed._

 _"I thought we had a conversation about lies."_

 _He saw her regret that promise._

 _"Fine. Yes. He came up to me earlier. I don't know how, but he figured out it was me who had the pool closed earlier and… well, he wasn't happy about it."_

 _His fingers curled into fists. "Did he threaten you?"_

 _She stared at him then swallowed._

 _"No."_

 _But her eyes shot to over his shoulder again._

 _His knuckles turned white._

 _"Tell me what he said."_

 _She winced. "Klaus, please just leave it alone. I made it clear that I'm not scared of him."_

 _"If that's the case, then why is he still trying to intimidate you?"_

 _"Because he's a man and that's what they do when women aren't scared. It's fine, please just let it go."_

 _"Did he threaten to hurt you?"_

 _"Klaus, I could break every limb in his body before he could so much as make a fist. Does it really matter what he did or didn't say?"_

 _Her tone grated. He couldn't put his finger on why, but it did._

 _"Yes. Because I want you to tell me."_

 _Her eyes closed for a second and she let out a breath._

 _"Please. Just let it go. Don't ruin dinner or this day."_

 _"So that's what it is, then?" It was. "You think I'm going to ruin something?"_

 _She sighed. "I just don't want a scene. He's a douchebag, yes, but he doesn't need to be crippled or whatever else you going over there is going to start. Let's just eat, go back to our room and forget he exists."_

 _He smiled and it wasn't kind._

 _"I see. So I'm incapable of having a conversation; of a confrontation not ending in murder. Is that it, Caroline?"_

 _She stared at him, her back straight and her eyes hard. She had no denial to offer up and it fanned the flames._

 _"Because I'm the soulless psychopath and you're the small-town cheerleader who_ could never _take a life?"_

 _He stared at her hard, as if compelling them both to think of the twelve witches she'd killed in one fell swoop. He knew it made her feel awful; that it made her self-esteem drop faster than the dozen witches had that night. And, for just a second, he'd wanted that. He'd wanted to make her feel as awful as he did. He wanted her to see the monster she'd silently named and shamed._

 _Her head ducked for a few seconds, as if she was blinking away tears, then she stood._

 _"I'm going to my room."_

 _A clear message: she wasn't going to enter into the argument and she wouldn't be sleeping in his room tonight._

 _He was too stubborn to watch her go – instead he stared at her empty seat and, when the waiter came, he ordered his next twelve drinks._

* * *

 _"Hi."_

 _She stared at him._

 _He'd done four rounds of knocking before she'd come to the door, possibly because she'd correctly guessed he wasn't going to give up. She stood there in a tiny shorts and tinier bra. She'd clearly been in bed but he'd heard her heartbeat – she hadn't been asleep._

 _"It's 1am, Klaus, and you smell like a brewery."_

 _She made no move_ _to let him in._

 _"An expensive brewery," he tried for a joke._

 _If she smiled, he knew he could fix this._

 _She didn't._

 _She looked sad. Sad and tired._

 _"I really don't give a shit what kind of scotch you've been drinking. It's been five hours and I'd like to get some sleep."_

 _"If you wanted to be sleeping, you'd be asleep," he pointed out._

 _She stared at him again, as if weighing up whether this point was worth arguing. But she wouldn't have waited or opened the door at all if she didn't want to talk. She knew he was too good of a manipulator not to know that._

 _So, after a moment too long of hesitation, she stepped away and into the room. He followed, clicking the door closed behind them._

 _He watched as she reached for a hoodie and pulled it on, struggling with the zipper then pulling it all the way up to her throat. His fingers fisted._

 _Then she looked at him. "You're not saying anything."_

 _"You expected an apology?"_

 _The corners of her lips lifted into something resembling a cruel smile, but was more sad than anything else._

 _"Honestly, I stopped expecting anything two hours ago."_

 _He avoided eye contact._

 _"I needed time to calm down."_

 _She scoffed. "I'm sure. Who died in the process?"_

 _His eyes snapped to hers._

 _"I was at the bar."_

 _"Whatever, Klaus." She folded her arms to her chest, tight. Like she needed to protect herself. From him. "Just say what you came to say."_

 _What_ had _he come to say? If anything, it was gone now. The way she was curled up into herself made him feel like a monster, which made him want to rein himself in. And, yet, that impulse in and of itself made him want to lash out._

 _"Why, so you'll have more ammunition to burn me at the stake?"_

 _"Right. Wanting to kill someone, you're totally Joan of Arc here."_

 _"_ You assumed _I was going to kill him."_

 _There was fury bubbling beneath his tone but her own was unleashed first._

 _"Oh my god, Klaus! Seriously? You're really going to stand there and pretend that you were going to go over there and have a civilised chat with the man?! God! It took you five hours just to come to my door and say_ nothing _!"_

 _He growled. "_ Don't _–"_

 _"No!_ You _don't! Don't stand there like I'm the one in the wrong here._ I _wanted us to have a nice dinner._ I _wanted you not to come in. But you always have to get your way and then we're left like_ this _!"_

 _He stared at her, noting the colour in her cheeks, and tried to calm himself down._

 _"I understand you're upset with me –"_

 _"Oh, I'm not. A few hours ago, yes. But now I'm really just mad at myself." He frowned, but she didn't hesitate in adding an explanation: "I was so quick and stupid to believe that anyone could be in a relationship with you. I thought that I was different and –" But she cut off, shaking her head like she couldn't even manage to say the words. "It doesn't matter what I thought. I was wrong. This can't work, that's clear now. You're... a whole different beast, metaphorically speaking, and I'm just not ready for that. I'm not ready to be everything you need. Your conscience, for one."_

 _He stood there, trying to absorb her words. Trying to accept what she was saying. But he couldn't. And she'd said more than he could counter, at least for the moment._

 _But there was only one thing that really mattered._

 _"So that's it, is it? One argument and suddenly it's all fire and brimstone?"_

 _"Klaus,_ you're _fire and brimstone. I'm just trying not to get burned up in it."_

 _He laughed and it wasn't kind._

 _"Right, of course. Because you're the only one capable of getting hurt."_

 _"Oh, no, you're hurt all the time. Because in your world, you never get anything you want, nobody cares about you, the universe has it out for you, down is up, and everyone is always two steps away from betraying you!"_

 _He stared at her, enraged, wishing there were some way to make her stop talking. The way she said words was like razors to his throat and he didn't understand how she did it; couldn't comprehend why he always sought it out anyhow._

 _And her eyes – they only made it worse. She stared, disgusted, as if awaiting some sort of response or reaction but whatever she wanted, he didn't seem to comply and she scoffed meanly._

 _She turned away and he found himself grabbing her by the arm and pulling her back._

 _"Don't turn your back on me!" he growled._

 _She was looking up at him defiantly, stubborn blood pumping through her veins like the slosh of scotch from a bottle. It pounded in his ears; he could practically see it in her throat. He could all but hear her again:_ I should've turned my back on you ages ago!

 _But her glance jumped down to his lips instead, uncertain, and suddenly_ he _was certain._

 _She whined as his lips clamped down against hers but it only lasted a few seconds before she forcefully shoved him away._

 _She glared at him hotly, her teeth bared as she panted._

 _Like this, he wanted to beg her to rip out his throat. He loved her power._

 _He blinked when, all at once, her lips were back on his and she was pressed against him, her tongue forceful against his lips. He parted them and pulled her closer, his eyes shut tight now as he took in the sensation of her kissing him again. Fuck, he thought he'd never be able to experience just that again and here she was, writhing up against him and tugging at his top._

 _His one hand went to her ass, squeezing and revelling in the little moan that escaped from her mouth to his. His other went to the zipper on her hoodie and in seconds it joined his top on the floor. She pulled away and stumbled back, the backs of her legs hitting the bed. His gaze roamed from her perfect thighs up to all the revealed skin on her stomach and the ridiculous bralet that, really, revealed more of her breasts than it hid._

 _Immediately he pressed up against her again, sliding her underwear and shorts away in one quick movement. Her skin was so smooth, he had to close his eyes and take a second._

 _Then he pulled his hands back up her beautiful hips and onto her stomach. Vaguely he felt her undo his pants and push them down. He was still naked beneath from earlier. He used his hand on her stomach to push her down then immediately settled between her legs. She let out a high sob at him hard against her and she angled her body, hitching a leg around his hip._

 _He ripped her bra off and she didn't utter a word of complaint, simply arching her back. He swore under his breath as he saw the pert nipples awaiting him, her chest flushed and the scent of her arousal heady._

 _He put his teeth to her breastbone, trying to gain back control, but every part of her was burning for him and he could scarcely process it. She was shivering already and he growled as he took each of her nipples into his mouth, lashing their taste into his mouth as he pressed his head to her entrance and she whined high and loud._

 _"Klaussss," she cried._

 _He couldn't help it, he bit into her breast and she inched up towards him, trying to take him inside her. He pulled away, though, then shifted entirely so he could turn her on her side._

 _He pulled his lips across her shoulder as he went to lie behind her._

 _"Caroline…" he whispered as he parted her legs._

 _Her body moulded to his as she pressed her ass against him. He pressed his face into her neck as he sheathed himself inside her all at once. Sound seemed to drop out of the room. There was only her hot flesh, pulsing and perfect around him._

 _He still couldn't believe how good it felt. He suspected that he never would be able to._

 _Suddenly everything snapped back – she was moving; whimpering. Then her hand reached back for his and he immediately knew what she needed._

 _Together their hands swept back over her body before going down to where they were joined. His hips were swivelling as she ground back against him and he took her ear into his mouth, pretending it was her clit against his tongue instead of where he was rubbing the tiny bud between his fingers, anything to distract himself._

 _Then her back arched and her hips shook as her walls clenched around him, pulsing harder and harder before ebbing as she went limp in his arms._

 _She was spent but he wasn't and he pulled out before helping her up, telling her with his eyes what he was thinking._

 _She got onto her knees and he pressed her palms flat against the wall behind the headboard. Her knees parted and he knelt behind her, staring at her ravishing form with the sudden realisation that some sort of god had to exist. Surely – otherwise, how was this possible? How was she possible?_

 _Her breaths were shallow but she chased backward, looking for him. He placed his cheek to her back, trying to slow his own breathing for just a second as he listened for her heartbeat. Then he reached forward, beginning to knead her left breast as she made little moaning sounds. He kissed the back of her neck as he began to edge into her, inch by inch. Their breathing seemed to hitch at the same moment, him groaning at her clenching around his sensitive head._

 _"Fuck, Caroline," he breathed._

 _He couldn't go slow any longer. At once he plunged inside her then pulled back out equally as fast. She shouted out and, briefly, he wondered how many noise complaints there'd been about them in the past week._

 _He thrust back into her then out and back in, going quicker until he was at vampire speed then even faster, till he could barely hold on._

 _His hand went to her hair and firmly he pulled her head back._

 _It was like she knew exactly what he wanted: her lips were parted; her eyes closed in utter ecstasy. He exploded._

 _He kept pumping into her, his thrusts growing shallower as his orgasm jolted through his system like an electric impulse of her._

 _When he was finally finished, he kissed the back of her neck again with a long breath before speeding to the bathroom and back, a warm damp towel in hand. He cleaned her up and was barely done with himself when she grabbed the towel from him. He heard the thud behind him as her lips pressed to his harshly._

 _He grinned greedily, pulling her closer by the back of her neck. She pressed her body up against his and he pressed his eyes closed tighter, revelling in the softness of her body and the sheer reality of her in his arms._

 _Eventually she pulled back, catching her breath. She looked a bit shy – or was it… uncertainty?_

 _Her eyes scanned his before she sat down, pulling the sheet up to cover herself up to her torso._

 _He settled too, watching her. She had to take the lead; something was bothering her._

 _It took a minute, though, with her eyes trained on the bed as she bit at her lip with that same strange combination of shy and uncertain._

 _"…What_ was _that?"_

 _He considered._

 _"I think you'd call it angry sex."_

 _She shook her head._

 _"No, I've had that. That was more like Angry Sex a la Klaus." Looking up, she grinned and he did too. "I like it."_

 _He tried to stave off asking; tried not to appear weak, but there was no other way. He had to know._

 _"…Then I suppose you'd want to stick around for more…?"_

 _She knew immediately what he meant, her eyes softening._

 _"I'm sorry about the things I said." She drew a long breath. "I was just hurt. When you didn't come after me, it felt like you didn't care."_

 _His eyes widened._

 _"You're the person I care most about in this world, Caroline. How else can I tell you that?"_

 _"I don't want you to tell me, Klaus. I need you to show me."_

 _He opened his mouth then closed it again. He didn't really know how to address that. He didn't know how to show that he cared – at least not in the way she wanted._

 _But he knew what she meant; what she wanted. That was a start._

 _He sighed._

 _"You were right. I wasn't going to have a civilised conversation with that man. I was going to rip him muscle from muscle and bone from skin."_

 _He was stunned to find her smiling back at him._

 _"I know." He brought a hand up to cover his eyes, ashamed, but she stopped it, forcing him to look at her. "I know because I know you, Klaus. I know who you are. I know what you've done. And I accept you. I_ want _you – the way you are. I just need you to accept that I know, and let me rein you in when I know it's necessary."_

 _He thought about this as she watched him closely. Let her rein him in? Not in his one thousand years had he allowed anyone that privilege; that ability._

 _Then again, he'd never felt about anyone the way he did her. And wasn't anything in the world better than the fear he'd felt outside her door?_

 _Suddenly she laid a hand on his heart, pressing down pointedly as she leaned closer to speak against his lips._

 _"_ My serial killer _, remember?"_

 _It only took him a second before he nodded._

 _"Yes."_

 _She smiled then kissed him, slow and sensuous, her lips warm and forgiving._

 _When she pulled away, she eyed him pointedly and he smiled sheepishly, knowing it was his turn._

 _"I'm sorry, for what I said."_

 _She cocked her head. "Which part?"_

 _He couldn't meet her eyes._

 _"The witches; calling you a cheerleader."_

 _She was silent for so long that he was forced to face her again, to search her facial expression, and it stung to see the pain there._

 _He swore, for as long as he lived, he would never forgive himself for putting it there._

 _"Nobody likes all the parts of themselves," she began softly, looking away before back at him, "but that doesn't mean they don't exist."_

 _He knew what she meant. That night she'd discovered that she was willing to kill twelve for her one friend. Tonight he'd discovered that, no matter his feelings for her, he was capable of lashing out; capable of hurting her._

 _He placed a finger on the bottom of her chin and gently pushed it up._

 _"I could never be good enough of a person to deserve you, Caroline. That ship sailed a long time ago." Her eyes widened like she didn't understand where he was going with this. He laid his forehead against hers. "But I'm trying to be better – at being in a relationship. I just need you to allow me a learning curve."_

 _She was even more beautiful up close and, when her eyes met his, it was one of those rare occasions when he felt he knew exactly what she was thinking._

 _She nodded slightly. "Yes."_

 _And then she kissed him._

* * *

Klaus wrapped a towel around his waist then stepped into his bedroom.

There was still a sheet covering the free-standing mirror in a corner of the room. He sped up to it and pulled it off, the dust from the sheet dislodging but barely bothering him as he got lost in his own memories again.

 _He sped up from the bed to stand behind her, where she was looking at herself in his shirt in the mirror. She'd just ended a call with her mother as he'd watched her from his bed (where she'd scrambled from at her mother's call, as if Liz could somehow see the scene they'd been in) as she tugged at her lip, fidgeted and generally was entirely unaware of how utterly entrancing she was even when her concentration was drawn elsewhere._

 _"What did she want?" he asked, lacing his arms around her waist._

 _"For me to come home," she informed him as if that should be obvious._

 _"She doesn't trust me." His lips settled on her shoulder and he looked at her in their reflections._

 _"Can you blame her? Her daughter's having sleepovers with, as far as she's concerned, the evilest evil this town has ever seen. After I'd been away with him in Switzerland for two weeks. She watches me drink my vervain in the mornings now."_

 _He shrugged. "She could give me a chance."_

 _"The fact that she hasn't stormed in here with her rifle is more than a chance, trust me."_

 _He sighed, wrapping her up tighter in his arms._

 _"I don't want you to go."_

 _"And I don't want to go. But I have to. Especially since we have that pow-wow later."_

 _"The what-now?"_

 _"Big bad of the week destruction brainstorm, remember?"_

 _"Ah, yes_ _–_ _Miles. I do, indeed."_

 _"I should hope so. It's you he's after."_

 _"And Damon is oh-so-worried about my bloodline."_

 _She placed her hands over his. "We're all worried about us all. Which is why we're all working together. Ok?"_

 _This was placation – she'd clearly recognised his statement as aggravated._

 _He sighed, giving in._

 _"You should tell your mother that."_

 _She laughed. "I will."_

 _She twisted her neck to kiss him and he closed his eyes, receiving her soft touches gratefully._

 _She pulled away too soon, though, and they stared back at one another with unspoken words zipping between them._

 _This afternoon would be the first real break from their bubble – for the past three days it had essentially been like they'd brought Switzerland back with them to Mystic Falls. But now they would be meeting with her friends and, before, there'd always been a line in the sand between them. He, the villain; her, the reluctant go-betweener consisting of mainly snarls. Now he didn't know what to expect; didn't know what it would feel like._

 _She opened her mouth to say something, to set his mind at ease, but he pushed forward to lay his lips against hers again and she smiled._

 _He kissed her just as softly as she had him then began to undo the buttons on his shirt she was wearing. Slowly, in pace with the brush of his lips over hers._

 _It was at the fourth button when she stopped him, pulling away from his lips and stopping his hands with hers._

 _"Klaus. I have to go."_

 _But maybe she saw it in his eyes – saw that this wasn't about sex – because she removed her hands again just as quickly. He undid the rest of the buttons then let the shirt off her shoulders._

 _He turned his neck to stare at her form in the mirror. The morning light came in through the curtains, illuminating her every feature. Caroline followed his gaze with uncertainty in her eyes._

 _He drew a hand between her thighs, feeling her tense as her breath hitched._

 _"I love your thighs," he whispered into her ear. "And your hips."_

 _His hand drew further up, up through her curls and over her stomach before landing between her breasts._

 _"I love your breasts."_

 _Each touch was chaste but there was a heaviness to it; a heaviness to the moment. His hand came up to her neck then her shoulders._

 _"Your perfect shoulders that bear too much; that bear the neck of a queen."_

 _His lips drew down the nape of her neck in barely-there brushes._

 _"I love your mind, your body and your soul, Caroline Forbes." He held his breath for a second as they met each other's eyes in the mirror. "I love you."_

 _She seemed to struggle to catch her breath for a moment that seemed to go on as long as eternity. Then she turned to face him._

 _"Klaus…"_

 _She leaned in, placing her forehead on his, her lips parting – when the doorbell rang._

 _He swore under his breath before tuning his hearing downstairs._

 _He sighed. "It's the Salvatores. I suppose something has occurred to make the meeting more pressing."_

 _He saw his own disappointment mirrored in her eyes – trust those bloody brothers to ruin everything with their distasteful timing – but there was no helping it. The moment had passed and there was no way to recover it, what with Damon ringing the bloody doorbell as if it were an invention he'd just discovered._

 _"You should –"_

 _"Get dressed?_ Yeah _," she nodded._

 _He nodded too and, two seconds later when he'd finished dressing, he watched her head back to the bed to find her clothing. He sighed before speeding downstairs._

That was the first time he'd told her he loved her.

He was doing up the buttons on his shirt, trying to recall why the hell he was subjecting himself to this torture, when the doorbell rang.

He sighed and was at the front door a second later, ready to inform Liz that even if he did need further checking up on, it was far more efficient for her to place another call than spend the hour it took her to get here.

But, when he swung open the door, it wasn't Liz.

"Caroline," he breathed.

Her smile was measured but ravishing.

"Hi, Klaus."

* * *

Anyone ever wonder how their angry/makeup sex habit got started? Are you satisfied by that explanation? Let me know as well as anything else you thought about the chapter!


	19. Chapter 19

Hi hi! First off, thank you for all the lovely reviews on the previous chapter! I'm thrilled you guys liked it and could tell how much I enjoyed writing it (I'm trash for Klamon and also sexy argumentative Klaroline heh). Secondly, I suck, I know. But work suddenly became crazy hectic and then suddenly I acquired a romantic life and things have only become crazier since. However, I found the time this weekend to finally pull this chapter together and I just finished editing (as always - I don't think I ever like have it done and then wait a while lol. Always hot off the presses haha).

 **IMPORTANT** : Please go do nominations for the Klaroline Awards! I know it can be time consuming but please remember that the awards exist for us and _also_ if enough people aren't nominated for a category then that category is taken away. Which is sad, because I'm sure there are people who deserved that award. Nominations are just as important as voting, if not more important. So please go do that (before this Friday)! And maybe even keep me in mind ;)

Ok, onto the story! (let me know what you think)

* * *

 _He couldn't stop looking at her._

 _Couldn't stop marvelling at the fact that she was here, with him. That she'd gone away with him and had decided to extend one night into fifteen days. That she'd touched him; had let him touch her. That they'd –_

 _"You're staring."_

 _He smirked. She hadn't even looked up from her magazine, from where she sat diagonally opposite him on the jet._

 _"You're stunning."_

 _"Not a good enough excuse."_

 _"But a reason."_

 _Now she looked up, exasperated, her cheeks pink._

 _"I can't concentrate when I can feel your eyes on me. It was hard enough to fall asleep that way earlier."_

 _He smiled. It had been a long flight back, lengthened by the fact that he'd not wanted to return to Mystic Falls. He'd seen it in Caroline's eyes, too, though he was sure their motives differed. She'd fallen in love with Switzerland; he'd wanted to take her elsewhere. Returning to Mystic Falls felt like returning to a prison cell. Especially once his fears were considered – that their relationship would somehow deteriorate thanks to the thus-far unlucky town._

 _"You're being dramatic, love." She was opening her mouth to counter this when he continued: "Besides, what could possibly be of such interest in that sad excuse for a publication?"_

 _She rolled her eyes. She did that often, with him. He found it maddeningly alluring._

 _"Everything trendy right now, duh."_

 _He raised a brow. "Is there anything you'd like?"_

 _She looked at him steadily then, with a sigh, closed the magazine and set it primly on her lap. As she took a breath, he got the idea that she'd been planning to say whatever she was about to for a while._

 _"You need to stop buying me things." She considered. "And treating me like this."_

 _He added a smirk to the brow raise, knowing it would drive her mad._

 _"I have no idea what you mean, sweetheart."_

 _It did. She blew out a breath._

 _"Seriously? The private jet? A five-star hotel in Switzerland? Clothing and jewellery being brought to my room every night?"_

 _He shrugged. "That's the bare minimum, really."_

 _She regarded him curiously now, like she was trying to work out whether that was the truth or not. It wasn't, but he couldn't seem to stop himself from giving her everything he could think of, so it was close enough to the truth._

 _"Klaus –"_

 _"Is it making you uncomfortable?"_

 _She stared at him, uncertainty in her brow. Then she sat backwards, visibly trying to force herself to relax._

 _"It's just that when you're human and a guy showers you with things, it… means something. And I've been in that situation before. I don't want to be again."_

 _Now he sat forward._

 _"What have I told you about altering your perception, Caroline? You're not human anymore. Money is worth nothing to a vampire – less than nothing. Which means the things it can buy are only slightly higher on the totem pole."_

 _She continued to stare at him as if more convincing was needed, so he went on._

 _"When a quick compulsion can get you anything you want and you've been alive long enough that interest builds upon interest and so on… money becomes the least of your concerns. You'll see soon enough, Caroline. Money is worth less than blood to a vampire."_

 _She still didn't look entirely convinced and he narrowed his eyes._

 _"I promise you, love. I don't expect anything from you, no matter what I buy you."_

 _She watched him for a second more then the magazine suddenly landed in his lap._

 _"Good. Then I want everything in that magazine."_

 _He smiled – half at her feistiness; half because he was relieved she'd let her guard down enough to believe him._

 _"Alright. Just this magazine?"_

 _She raised an eyebrow. "Klaus, that's Italian Vogue. There are like three thousand items in there."_

 _"And there are more magazines over there," he pointed at the magazine rack, not quite comprehending her point._

 _Hadn't she understood? He wanted to give her everything._

 _She rolled her eyes. "God, you're crazy."_

 _He grinned wildly and it seemed to prove infectious – she smiled back at him in spite of herself. Then she shook her head and looked out her window at the clouds below. They would begin descending soon._

 _Mystic Falls was far nearer than Europe now and, though he still carried her most recent smile tucked in close to his chest, there was nothing that could dispel his fear of losing her. Of losing everything they'd managed to build in Switzerland – which was less than he would've liked, but far more than he could imagine losing._

 _"Klaus."_

 _He looked up to meet her eyes, which were on him seriously again._

 _"Yes?"_

 _"What's that thing, then, for you? The thing that makes you expect something from… someone?" Then, a bit braver: "_ From me _?"_

 _He blinked, not wanting to answer, but the truth was already at his tongue._

 _"Trust. And I expect reciprocation in kind."_

 _She took a silent moment to absorb this before raising an eyebrow._

 _"Seriously? You tried to kill me and you're the one who doesn't trust me?"_

 _He chuckled. This was an old argument of theirs._

 _"Come on, love, I thought we had come to a truce on that. Besides, I didn't try to kill you."_

 _"Oh, right. Just sacrifice me. Which is, what, classier? And then the other time was just 'a message'; collateral damage. You may notice a pattern here: it's called you sucking at excuses."_

 _He couldn't help it, he burst into laughter. As he laughed he felt her staring at him, her own little smile set in place._

 _His heart contracted tightly. He enjoyed staring at her, but had absolutely no idea how to handle the situation when it was turned on him._

 _He had absolutely no idea what she thought when she looked at him like that._

 _He stopped laughing and her own lips were still turned up as her eyes glowed; cast him in her rays._

 _"Kiss me, Klaus."_

 _He lost his breath for just a second. Then he launched forward._

He blinks, trying to take her in.

Her hair is not quite back to the bob, but it's shorter than it's been since New York. It's lighter, too, which caught him off guard. Really, the very fact that she's _here_ has him off guard.

"I should've called." She bites at her lip. Then: "I know I'm an entire day late, but… I was hoping we could still do dinner?" She lifts her arm. "I brought wine."

She had indeed. He looks at the bottle in her hand then back up at her eyes, where he can see fear.

Of what, he wonders.

Rejection?

"Of course," he nods, and she breaks into a grin.

She steps inside as he moves away but she dithers in the doorway.

"How have you been?"

"Um…" She pulls a face, like even this question is too difficult. "…Is the offer for that hug still open?"

Surprised, he nods, and she presses close to him as he takes the bottle.

He isn't expecting her to really wrap her arms around him, but she does and, even in his hesitation, he's reminded of before.

She'd taught him to hug, after all, with much eye rolling and huffing about how he was the only person on the planet for whom this was a difficult act. Followed by numerous lectures about how a hug was actually only twenty percent physical – eighty percent of it was emotional. _You can't just stand there like a shell, Klaus. You have to engage._

He ducks his head into her shoulder, breathing her in. She's bought a new perfume but beneath it she still smells like her. It's comforting in a way he cannot comprehend.

Holding her like this for the first time in so long feels all too right.

"I'm sorry," she says lowly into his ear.

He wants to pull back automatically, confused, but she holds him in place and he frowns.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do." She sighs. "I know I sucked yesterday. For being so confusing. I just… had to find myself, as clichéd as that sounds."

"It's not, actually, in 2050. People rarely try to find themselves anymore."

He feels her smile against his neck. It sends a strange spark down his spine.

"You're awfully nice for a bad guy, you know."

His free hand goes to her lower back.

"I try, every now and then."

There's a short silence, during which she burrows deeper into his neck and he tries to stand as still as possible. It's in contravention of Caroline Forbes' Guide to Hugging, but he's too uncertain about the situation and how to react to pay attention to that for the moment.

Still, he can feel her eyelashes fluttering against his throat and he swallows carefully.

"I know –" she begins, then cuts off. She starts again: "I was really vague and stupid and confused yesterday. All I knew was that I had to make decisions about where I want my life to go and what I want it to be." She hesitates then pulls back slightly, so that her nose brushes his chin. "…Who I want to be in it."

He meets her eyes even though he doesn't want to – she'd always been able to read him too well, and he doesn't want her to see what's in his eyes now.

She blinks. "Never for a minute – when I was thinking straight – did that ever not include you, Klaus. I need you to know that."

His hand on her tightens; he can barely breathe.

"I don't really understand what this is between us, but I know it's stronger than anything I've ever felt." He feels her hand over his heart. "And no matter where that as-yet-to-be-decided life goes… I know I want you to be in it."

He could pick her up and shake her. Instead he pulls her back in, grasping her tight. She giggles and hugs him back so hard, they're all but fracturing each other's bones.

She pulls away too quickly for his liking and, although she looks happy, she seems a bit uncomfortable.

"So, um…"

He understands. Too much intimacy too fast; too suddenly. He understands because he feels it too. This isn't like them in any time.

"…Shall I take your coat?"

She nods enthusiastically then drops the coat from her shoulders. He freezes when he sees the dress underneath. She shoots him a smile and it's coquettish.

"What?"

He sputters.

It's the dress she'd worn to dinner their first night in Switzerland. He remembers it like it was yesterday. He'd been consumed with thoughts of being the one to take it off her. He'd never actually gotten the opportunity.

He clears his throat. "Nothing. You look ravishing."

Her eyes gleam at him over her shoulder before she heads further inside and he follows.

"…So are we getting takeout, or do I still get a home-cooked meal?"

He chuckles. "You're not getting out of my cooking that easily."

She rounds to face him, walking backwards.

"So you admit your cooking's bad?"

He grabs her by the wrist right before she almost bashes into a wall.

" _I admit_ I'm intrigued by how it is you think you're going to find the kitchen without looking where you're going."

Her gaze shoots from his hand on her to over her shoulder then back at him. She pulls a face then bursts out laughing.

" _Oops_."

He can't help it, he laughs too, before turning and pulling her in the direction of the kitchen.

"That being said, I don't actually have anything prepared for a meal."

She shrugs as they step into the kitchen, easily pulling herself from his hold and grabbing the bottle from his other hand.

"We'll just have wine so long, then." Her face scrunches up as she begins to read the label. "My mom said it's some amazing vintage she's been keeping for years for a special occasion."

"And this is a special occasion?" he challenges.

She narrows her eyes. " _My mom_ thinks so."

He smiles too, relaxing. He'd missed her side-stepping; her undercutting. He'd missed her.

He tells her, forcing his tone to be casual, as he searches for a corkscrew.

"Duh," she tosses her hair. "I'm awesome."

His smile grows.

Her eyes are heavy on him as he works at the cork and he's not sure why but he feels uncertain under her gaze. He gets a moment of relief before glass clinks down onto marble as she places down two wine glasses.

"You know, for a one-thousand-year-old vampire-werewolf evil mastermind, your kitchen is surprisingly easy to navigate."

He chuckles at her little taunt as he begins to pour.

"Well, that's so all the women in my life with magical amnesia won't get lost."

She giggles then pouts teasingly.

"How sweet of you to think of me."

"I try," he teases back.

Reaching for a glass to pass to her, he smiles.

"Shall we have a taste to see if your mother was right to conserve it?"

He's mid-turn when, faster than he can follow, suddenly she presses herself up against him.

He's barely able to process her body against his when her lips are to his too and for two whole seconds he entirely freezes. He doesn't know how to proceed or what she expects but somehow his hand finds her waist and then he's kissing her back and he only has a second to process her smile before she pulls back.

He stares at her, astonished, and she shrugs. Her eyes are galaxies.

"I wanted to taste you first."

He knows he should have something witty or sly to counter with but he's completely dumbfounded instead and, as she takes up her glass, she looks at him curiously.

"Can I use your phone?"

He nods and hands it over and she thanks him.

"Do whatever prep you need to. I'll wait."

* * *

Caroline's just about figured out how phones work in 2050 when Klaus enters the dining room.

He raises a brow.

"You set the table."

"Well, I figured since I sprung dinner on you, I may as well help with whatever would've been done otherwise. How's the food?"

"In the oven."

"Do you have a lighter for the candles?"

He nods and begins rooting for one, which makes her smile inexplicably. Two fingers go to her lips, which are still tingling.

God, she still can't believe she'd actually gone through with it.

"My mom says hi, by the way."

"Who was checking in with whom?"

"Her with me. She wanted me to call to prove I actually drove all the way over here and didn't take a two-hour detour."

He smirks. "Were you that uncertain?"

"That nervous," she corrects.

He meets her eyes as he lights the fourth candle and she looks down quickly, her cheeks burning.

Somehow now, after the kiss, everything they say seems to carry a different weight. She'd known that, coming here, but the reality still surprises her.

She expects him to bring it up, but he doesn't. He only sits down beside her, at the head of the table. She clears her throat.

"Why did Damon call?"

He looks oddly curious but answers nonetheless: "He wants to visit Stefan's grave but would prefer it if I weren't in town when he does."

She nods, remembering Damon's assertion that he hated Klaus now more than ever.

Now she's curious: "Are you mad I went through your phone?"

He frowns. "Why would I be?"

She's about to answer when his hand lands casually on her wrist and she stares at it for a few seconds, cataloguing her body's reactions. God, her heart had barely just stopped pounding after kissing him.

With a soft exhale, she looks back at him.

"I don't know. Guys tend to be," she half-jokes, remembering their conversation about how he was nothing like other guys.

His fingers caress the back of her hand and she tries desperately to supress a shiver.

"Were you looking for anything in particular?"

"No," she says, too quickly, then blushes. "…Maybe."

He smirks, raising a brow, and she avoids his eyes.

"I obviously don't think you didn't… _sleep_ with anyone else in thirty-five years… I guess I just hope you aren't keeping in touch with them."

When she looks up, after a few moments of silence, she's surprised to find him no longer looking amused or confident. She can't place the expression, though.

For some reason it makes her think about her mother's theories on the topic.

She _had_ noticed that the only person under his 'Frequently Dialled' list was precisely Liz.

"I'm sorry," she laughs nervously, when he still doesn't respond, "I don't mean to sound jealous; I know it's lame."

"On the contrary, love. It's flattering. I'm just confused by your premise."

She rolls her eyes. "Klaus. We're adults and I know we were in a committed relationship, but it's not like it was just a year or two. It was almost four decades, and I don't expect you to have abstained from… well, anything. I just hope that, now… well, I get you all to myself."

She meets his eyes and watches a slow smile start on his lips.

"I can promise you that."

She notes his own eyes lower to her mouth and she finds herself blushing again.

"Y-yeah?" she asks breathily.

He nods and suddenly he's moving closer; moving her hair away.

There's silence for a long moment as she revels in his touch and proximity. Then she meets his eyes again.

"You kissed me," he says, half-wondrously, half-boastingly.

She supresses another blush, since he's holding her face, and forces a roll of her eyes instead. Better to seem annoyed than embarrassed.

"Seriously? You're really bragging about that now, forever after the fact?"

He smirks. "You're right, it's been a while. We should re-enact it."

She laughs in spite of herself and falls right into his trap: suddenly they're nose-to-nose, his stubble against her chin and his breath on her lips.

She looks up into his blue eyes then, thinking of his recent promise, she shakes her head.

"You can't kiss me."

He searches her eyes then seems to find her sincerity and frowns.

She clarifies: "Not until you tell me what the promise was that you made me the night of graduation."

He backs up immediately, a harsh breath leaving his lips as if she'd completely taken him by surprise. She supposes she had.

She doesn't know why – she's tried her best to let go of everything Past Caroline-related – but she just can't seem to let this go. Too many memories have been tangled up with that one. It has to be important. To then and to now. She has to know what he'd promised her.

"Distraction and extortion? You haven't lost your touch, sweetheart."

She grins. "Thank you."

He smirks. "But neither have I."

He stands abruptly, beginning to head to the kitchen, and she tries not to groan. He's well aware that he's not the only one who wants her lips on his. Giving in would mean giving her everything she wants.

No, he definitely hadn't lost his touch. He's still two steps ahead.

Caroline looks out over Mystic Falls.

It's interesting to see how much has changed; how much has stayed the same. Night has fallen fast, leaving the twinkling of city-like lights for the admiration of anyone on a floor above it. Which isn't common, in a small town like this, so she appreciates Klaus' balcony.

Her arms rest on the ledge and again she finds her fingers going to her lips as she recalls kissing the hybrid. It had been entirely crazy – she's well aware of that – but so worth it. She gets the idea that people don't catch him off guard very often and she'd felt his hesitation before he'd kissed her back – a second before she'd withdrawn. Which had been difficult to do, almost more difficult than kissing him to begin with.

But something had pushed her to.

She knows that damn diary entry had been a part of it.

Even now, it makes her blush just to remember it. God, that job she'd been contemplating? Turns out it may as well be erotica writer, because she'd been pretty freaking detailed. Detailed enough that reading it had been way too affecting considering she can't even remember what was being described.

She wants to tell Klaus she'd read it but she doesn't know how and, besides, there are probably more important things she should be telling him.

Like that she's been having memory relapses. Which she has _no_ idea how to admit to. And she's still not sure she _should_.

She's pondering this when she finds her mind drifting elsewhere, back to the feeling of his lips on hers; of his scent up close. Which, of course, only goes to worse places from there...

* * *

 ** __Date __**

 **Klaus is different. Something is wrong.**

 **That was the first thing I thought when I stepped out of the shower and heard him ask Bonnie to leave us alone. They argued as I wrapped a towel around my chest.**

 **Bonnie was leaving the room (!) when I stepped out of the bathroom with a frown.**

 _"What's wrong?"_

 _Klaus' head turned towards her. He smiled as if it could erase the worry from his face._

 _"Nothing."_

 _"You're lying," she noted evenly, her eyes drifting over the spot where Bonnie had just left from._

 _He hadn't asked her to leave them completely before – hadn't ever been willing to take the risk – and now suddenly he had, and expected her to think nothing had changed?_

 _"My friends – "_

 _He stepped forward, into the doorway with her. "They're fine."_

 _She could see he wasn't lying so she allowed herself to relax a little._

 _Holding her eyes, he stepped even closer, and her heart began to patter of its own accord._

 _He let out a long breath over her shoulder. It touched the drops of water her skin was littered with and she shivered._

 _"I don't – "_

 _She stopped when he laid a thumb on her bottom lip and her eyes jumped up to meet his. Finally her brain caught up with her skittering heart._

 _It had been so long that she'd forgotten about the way his eyes darkened to black when he needed her and he wasn't in the mood to control it._

 _His hand went to her hip and she whimpered under her breath as he pushed her back. She swallowed harshly when her back hit the wall._

 _Slowly he leaned down then deliberately took her bottom lip into his mouth. He licked over it, removing every drop of water, before sucking it further into his mouth. Her hands jumped to his neck, nails sinking into skin as he performed the same ritual on her upper lip._

 _Then he slipped his tongue past and she drew him closer, moaning softly as she kissed him harder. He pushed further in to her then pulled away, his head ducking against her._

 _There were more drops of water down her neck, scattered across her chest. He kissed them all away then brought his hand up to where her towel was knotted._

 _She'd known it was coming but she still could barely believe it when he undid the knot. She never would've thought she'd get this lucky today. Literally, she supposed._

 _He took a sharp little breath as the towel dropped to the floor then pushed even closer to her, visibly taking pleasure in the little moan that escaped her at the feel of his clothing pressed up against her very naked body._

 _Then he ducked even further and her mouth fell open with a long breath._

 _"Klaus."_

 _He licked up every drop of water on her breast then casually took her nipple into his mouth. Her back arched as she moaned, his rough tongue playing havoc on the sensitive bud. Her breasts were super sensitive and added infinitely to her arousal, which worked out well because he loved them._

 _"Klaus," she moaned, digging her fingers in deeper. "Oh, god," she cried when he twisted it by his teeth then swiftly moved on to the other._

 _There was no getting accustomed to sex with Klaus. Everything always burned and set her on fire; drove her multiple types of insane._

 _But, seemingly contrarily, abstinence had made her far more sensitive to every single thing he was doing._

 _Her eyes closed as she swallowed desperately._

 _"Klaus, please touch me," she begged. "Please, oh, god…"_

 _He liked her begging._

 _Eagerly she felt his hands slide down over her hips then dart between her thighs. Her eyes squeezed shut in anticipation._

 _A second later his finger was tracing over her slit and she almost screeched in delicious appreciation._

 _"Oh, shit. Oh my god, yes. More."_

 _He kissed her then and she took it gratefully, moaning into his mouth when his finger slid inside her slick entrance._

 _"Mmmmm," she hummed, before tangling her tongue with his._

 _He always felt so perfect inside her, like he belonged there unequivocally._

 _Knowing just what drove her wild, he inserted another finger and she tensed up, scared of the amount of pleasure waiting for her._

 _She supposed there was one thing she became accustomed to in regards to sex with Klaus. The powerful orgasms. Except it wasn't a case of being bored with them as much as usually being ready for them. Now it had been too long and she felt just a pinprick of fearful mixed in with the excitement._

 _She pulled away from the kiss with a shake of her head._

 _"I need you."_

 _He looked confused. "Caroline – "_

 _He liked giving her multiple orgasms._

 _But she didn't want that._

 _"No. I need your cock, please. Inside me right now."_

 _She knew she was panting and he clenched his jaw before kissing her again, hard._

 _When he pulled back she realised she was on her back._

 _She spread her legs and Klaus, standing at the edge of the bed, caressed her thighs before leaning down and kissing the super sensitive skin._

 _Her breathing was quick and shallow and she squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to handle the sensation._

 _It was quickly replaced by a much more distracting one, though._

 _Klaus nosed apart her folds then quickly began licking and caressing her; sucking at her clit. She could feel her legs beginning to shake and reflexively her knees came up._

 _Quickly Klaus rose, looking slightly sheepish, like he hadn't completely planned on doing that._

 _It split her face into a smile and she let him push her legs apart again, spreading her knees until she was wide open._

 _"Fuck, you're beautiful," he noted under his breath, matter-of-factly._

 _She was still grinning. "Fuck me, beautiful."_

 _It made him chuckle a little and he began to undress rapidly. She watched in appreciation, looking down her naked body as he stripped for her._

 _If she hadn't already been soaking ready for him, that would've sealed the deal._

 _He didn't waste time when he was naked, crawling to lay over her, laying one of her legs over his shoulder._

 _In the back of her mind she knew that there were still strings attached. Something was wrong._

 _But her eyes closed, shutting out the thought, as he entered her fully. She bit into her bottom lip so hard she felt it burst._

 _Klaus kissed her and she moaned as his tongue slid over the wound, taking up the last few drops of her blood before it healed._

 _There was so much. His lips on hers, his thumbs pressed to her pelvic bone, him so hard and hot inside her. She couldn't focus on it all, not without losing it right then and there._

 _She forced her eyes open just to distract herself but it only made things worse. With a gasp she noticed the way he was looking at her, his eyes drilling hot holes into her, saying so many things she had no way of translating._

 _Her scream strangled in her throat as he shifted inside her and her hand shot out to find purchase in his hair._

 _Again he moved, starting up a slow rhythm, and her back arched. His hip bone grazed her clit and she drowned a scream in his mouth._

 _He sped up, holding on tight as he kissed her even harder and she whimpered. Softly then louder and louder because she couldn't care who heard anymore._

 _Finally she pulled away, dragging her teeth over his earlobe with a high whimper, shaking her head._

 _"I'm not ready, please, I need more."_

 _He didn't listen, he kept going, harder and quicker, and she fell with a cry she couldn't control, her entire body freezing up and spasming._

 _He kissed and bit at her neck as waves and waves of pleasure broke over her._

 _But he didn't stop._

 _"Fuuuuuck," she breathed, her eyes rolling into the back of her head._

 _Her clit was swollen and her walls were desperately gripping him but he was still riding against her, still pushing in and grinding against, faster and faster. Her hand slipped from his hair to his back and she dug her nails in so hard she felt blood, but didn't stop._

 _It hurt too good, she couldn't take it. Oh god, nothing had ever hurt so much and simultaneously felt like heaven before._

 _She screamed as another orgasm crashed around her. She felt as if she were hurtling down and forward at the same time. Nothing in the world made sense but him inside her. He was kissing her throat, her shoulders, her chest. She felt it all in peripheral as she fell up and died infinitely._

 _Then he let her leg go and kissed her with everything, his tongue darting against hers. She whimpered, crashing back to earth as he sucked her tongue into his mouth._

 _But he was still going, still pumping into her, and she pulled away from the kiss with a gasp._

 _"Klaus, I can't."_

 _He looked at her, his eyes blazing, then tilted his head._

 _Involuntarily her gums began to water as she gazed at the lean lines of his neck; the pulsing carotid._

 _Without a second of further thought she darted forward. Absently she felt him wrap her legs around his waist as her fingers dug into his ass, but all she could think about was the blood._

 _It flooded her senses, his rich hybrid blood. All for her. She drank and drank and drank until she wasn't thinking anymore, just drinking and feeling, riding every wave with his blood on her tongue. With him inside her, hot and hard; with him inside her, warm and fluid. She didn't count the orgasms, didn't even try to be neat._

 _They were both stained with his blood by the time he gently pried her off._

 _"I feel a little faint," he smiled, genuinely surprised. "That's a first."_

 _"Well, I just had a million orgasms so I guess it's firsts all around," she grinned, dropping her head back._

 _There was no way to describe how she felt. Ecstasy didn't even begin to cut it. The adjective or the drug. Literally nothing could compare to this._

 _She felt sated and happy and kind of off her head. She felt like she could laugh and the world would crumble; she could think and it would come right back into being._

 _"No, don't go," she complained, when he began rolling off._

 _He frowned but stayed, not pulling out of her either. She liked it._

 _Thoughtlessly she drew a hand over his stubble, watching his every reaction without taking any of it in._

 _He let her for a while then ducked into it and kissed her palm._

 _"Do you really feel faint?" she wondered giddily._

 _"Sweetheart, you drank from me for almost ten minutes."_

 _That made her smile dopily and he raised a brow before laughing at her a little._

 _"What?"_

 _"You're acting strange."_

 _"I think I'm high," she admitted, before pulling him closer. "I think you make me high."_

 _She kissed him, lacing her tongue over the seam of his lips, but he was rigid and she frowned._

 _"Kiss me."_

 _To her utter surprise, he shook his head and pulled back so they were further apart. All traces of his laugh were gone._

 _"I can't."_

 _She tried to hide her concern with a smile._

 _"That tired, huh?"_

 _He didn't smile back._

 _Instead he finally pulled out and rolled off her with a heavy sigh._

 _"Klaus, what's wrong?" she asked sombrely, rolling over to face him._

 _She almost jerked away in surprise when he reacted by reaching out to her, laying a hand in her hair and caressing it before tenderly touching her cheek and finally resting in her neck._

 _"We're losing."_

 _"We're…" she started to repeat it but couldn't._

 _She couldn't quite believe this was happening; couldn't believe he of all people had just said those words._

 _"We –" he started then stopped, almost seeming to choke on whatever he'd been about to say. He looked away then drew a breath and met her eyes again. "We need to do the spell."_

 **That finished my high off nice and quick.**


	20. Chapter 20

Hello, everyone! First of all can I just say a GIANT thank you to you all for earning me my first-ever Klaroline Award?! Thank you so so much, it means the world to me! I'm so touched and honoured to know that you guys are enjoying this story. I hope you will continue to, because when you guys are happy it makes me happy xx

Secondly, HAPPY BIRTHDAY NATALIE. Writer of amazing gif reviews and general amazing human being, this chapter is dedicated to you xx Love you tons.

P.S. Sorry so short, everyone, this and the next chapter actually form one but since the POVs are split I decided to split them up. Let me know if you like :)

* * *

 _"What's wrong?"_

 _He'd just pulled up outside her house and there was hesitation in the angle of her body; in her brow._

 _She shook her head slowly, as if not really sure for herself._

 _"I just realised that I'm really back home... And I'm scared. Of my friends and their opinions and everything becoming…_ real _. It all felt like a dream and it just hit me that it has to join up with reality now." She nibbled at her lip. "I just hadn't been thinking about it at all yet until now, I guess."_

 _"It's all I've been thinking about."_

 _It was. It had haunted him since before they'd stepped onto the jet in Switzerland._

 _Caroline's features softened as she met his eyes._

 _"I know I made a joke about it earlier, but I do get it. I know what you meant. You're... You're trusting me with the way you feel about me and you don't want this ending with me throwing that back at you. But I want you to know it's ok to be vulnerable with me." She laid a hand on his. "I understand."_

 _He looked down, at her cold hand atop his and, though he again wanted desperately not to say it, he found himself doing so anyway. She wanted his vulnerability, after all._

 _"No, you don't. Because for you there are others. Other possibilities, other futures, other men. But not for me. You are Thee Woman, Caroline Forbes. There is no one else. I've lived long enough to know that for certain."_

 _She blinked back at him, unbreathing._

 _He wasn't sure what he was expecting her to say, but he had still expected_ something _._

 _But two seconds passed by then five and ten._

 _He shook his head, exhaling harshly._

 _"I should get you back to your mother."_

 _This finally seemed to break her from her stupor and she nodded._

* * *

Klaus stills for a second, admiring the form she cuts.

In the moonlight her lighter hair glimmers and he doesn't know where his eyes would rather be: on all her glowing bare skin, or on the curves that blasted dress just barely hides. He wants her more than anything else in this world.

 _Good things come to those who wait._

He'd waited and she'd come back to him, after all. Which is the only thing strengthening his resolve not to tell her about his promise to her at graduation. He's desperate for her lips on his again – properly, this time – but he has to bide his time; has to wait for her to withdraw her ultimatum.

And that's not the only thing he's holding back from her.

 _I obviously don't think you didn't sleep with anyone else in thirty-five years. I guess I just hope you aren't keeping in touch with them._

His breath stutters and he sees her hear it – her spine straightening – but she doesn't turn.

"Are you just standing there peeping?" she accuses.

"Admiring, actually. You're ravishing."

He catches her quickly hidden blush before she makes a show of rolling her eyes. He begins to approach.

"Just because you have the compliment to back it up, doesn't make it any less creepy to stare."

She's just barely finished her sentence when he comes to a stop behind her and lays his hands on her hips. It's a barely-there touch, just heavier than a brush, but he hears her breath hitch and her heartbeat quicken. He himself can barely breathe. The fabric of the dress is thin enough that he can almost just imagine he's touching her bare skin.

She draws a sharp breath then inclines her head.

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to be touching me like that." She shoots him a teasing look. "Since you're not allowed to kiss me and all."

His smile wistful, he reluctantly moves to stand beside her instead. His fingers linger for just a second more before he's able to draw them away and he begrudgingly lays them on the rail, staring out at the small town.

"What were you thinking about?"

"You."

His head swivels to catch the blonde already staring at him, something indecipherable in her eyes.

"What about me?" he presses curiously.

She bites at her lip a little.

"That you were touching me like you just were."

She smiles at the end like it's supposed to be a joke, and he chuckles, but really feels raw all over. He'd forgotten how much it physically ached to want Caroline Forbes. When it was possible to have her and yet just out of reach.

* * *

 _"How's Elena?"_

 _He'd sped downstairs to meet her as she entered his home as if being chased by the devil._

 _She scoffed. "You don't care about Elena."_

 _"No. But I'm attempting to postpone the inevitable."_

 _She glared and he knew it wasn't going to work for a second longer._

 _"Why did you join the battle, Klaus? We told you you weren't supposed to do that."_

 _"Yes, well, I don't take orders from the Salvatores and I think you're forgetting that it was a battle you were losing."_

 _"You weren't even supposed to be there to know that!"_

 _"And I asked you not to go – yet, there we both were."_

 _She folded her arms almost violently._

 _"You asked me not to go because you wanted to control me. I went because they're my friends and I'm not letting them fight alone."_

 _He gritted his teeth. "Yes, and where were they when Miles was about to kill you?"_

 _He knew very well they'd all been beat, struggling to recover from their wounds. But that wasn't his point._

 _"You know where they were. And it's not up to them to save me."_

 _"No. But it is up to me."_

 _She scoffed. "Why, because we're sleeping together? That doesn't make you my boyfriend, Klaus."_

 _He tried not to recoil at her crude description; at the denial that fell so easily from her lips after he'd told her he loved her._

 _His own voice shook with anger._

 _"We both know I've never needed a title to come to your aid."_

 _"We both know Miles is after_ you _and that he has Bonnie's mom's spell. He could've put you down!"_

 _His eyes burned._

 _"And if he had done so, you and your friends would've been fine, so no skin off your nose!"_

 _"It's not my friends I'm worried about!"_

 _She'd shouted it with her whole body and now she stood there with her chest heaving, her jaw locked, and generally looking as if she were about to strangle him._

 _He, on the other hand, felt tame. It was as if she'd absorbed his anger._

 _But really he knew it had been her words; what they meant. All his anger had seeped away and left... awe._

 _"...You're yelling at me because you're concerned about me?"_

 _"Duh! That's how relationships work!"_

 _He smiled, beginning to close the distance between them they'd created while arguing._

 _"I'm confused, sweetheart. Are we or are we not in a relationship now?"_

 _Her glare only intensified and she shouted._

 _"God! You make me so angry!"_

 _She'd thrown her hands up to properly display her frustration and now she re-folded her arms as she turned away from him, her chest visibly heaving._

 _He smiled at her back. It seemed he would never stop finding her sheer fieriness as alluring as he did._

 _He stepped closer, laying his hands on her hips._

 _"Then perhaps I should be the one to release some of that tension."_

 _Ducking down, he began laying kisses down the nape of her neck as he moved his hands up._

 _Almost immediately her body relaxed into him; the knots below his mouth dissipating, and he closed his eyes, relieved. As lovely as he found her anger, he never took it for granted; never quite believed he could make it not stick. But her hips pressed back and her legs parted as she opened up for him – her neck tilted; her breaths were heavy._

 _"Oh, sweetheart," he moaned, already hard and ready for her._

 _He brought the full weight of her body against him and her tiny barely audible whimpers made his cock twitch as she rubbed against it in little circles, her soft ass making him breathless. His hands crept beneath her top and his breath stuck in his throat when he felt that she was wearing one of those bralet things that she tended to spill out of. This one was no different and her hips jerked as he rubbed his thumb roughly over her lace-covered nipple._

 _"Klaus, don't…" but the rest disappeared in her throat when he started kneading both her breasts with, not quite desperation, but certainly necessary purpose._

 _Her hips began to work back against him to the same rhythm his hands were going and, shit, he couldn't take it with the little sounds she was making._

 _His one hand darted down to undo her jeans and she only lost a beat as his hands traversed the path from her pelvis down below her panties. She tossed her head back as he reached the warm flesh. His eyes closed, a breath escaping when he felt slickness before he even got there._

 _"Caroline," he moaned, almost in complaint, and she half-giggled breathily._

 _"Promise you won't stop," she begged. "God, promise you won't stop."_

 _Her hips bucked into his hand and suddenly he was palming her and she was so hot and wet that he could barely think. He groaned up at the ceiling before plunging a finger inside her and the little sob that escaped her lips was so worth it._

 _He added another, starting a slow but insistent rhythm inside her and her sounds weren't quite as little anymore as she did her best to ride his fingers. He brought his thumb up to her clit and she moaned out expletives through her teeth on her bottom lip._

 _It was the sexiest fucking moment he'd ever lived._

 _But then she pulled both his hands from her and, in an instant, had spun around and tugged down his zipper. Her kiss was hot and sloppy as she pulled his cock free then rubbed it roughly, making him hiss as she pulled him toward her then with her when she fell back against the sofa. She shimmied her jeans down just the slightest bit before pulling him down on top of her._

 _Klaus did up his jeans as he climbed off the sofa._

 _He felt her eyes on him as he placed logs into the fireplace then set it alight. He watched for a few moments, to make sure it took, before heading back to the sofa._

 _She readily made space for him before re-taking it, this time all over him. He wished she were naked. He wanted her skin; her plump breasts pressing into him._

 _She let out a breath._

 _"…I'm sorry I said those things." He met her eyes, noting the fear in them. "I just got so scared. The moment you showed up it was like all my blood froze and suddenly Miles' hand on my throat wasn't the scariest thing anymore. And I had no idea how to deal with that feeling. The only thing I could think was to come over here and scream at you to make you realise you can't do something that stupid again because…" She looked away, trembling a bit, before meeting his eyes again. "I can't lose you."_

 _He stared back at her incredulously but quickly forced the emotion away. He couldn't allow himself to dwell on the meaning of her words._

 _Instead he leaned closer with a finger on her chin._

 _"I suppose you've had a taste of what it's like for me, then."_

 _She rolled her eyes. "Can't you ever just admit you were wrong?"_

 _"I was wrong to save your life?"_

 _"You were wrong to worry me like that," she glared. "Miles may not have had a white oak stake, but you were in real danger today."_

 _"He may not have had a white oak stake, but he was busy crushing your windpipe, which is as big of a threat towards me."_

 _"Oh my god! Stop trying to make it seem like you had more right to be worried!"_

 _"But I did."_

 _She stared solidly at him for a few frustrated seconds then huffed._

 _"Seriously? Are we really going to argue about who loves the other more?"_

 _He froze._

 _Slowly, hesitantly, he raised his head to meet her eyes. She was looking back at him openly._

 _"Loves?"_

 _It had been near a week since he'd told her he loved her and the Salvatores had interrupted. Things had become so busy and dangerous that they'd barely seen each other since. He'd never found out how she would've responded to his admission._

 _Caroline blinked. Then she looked away for a moment, annoyance in her temperament, before making eye contact again._

 _"I was going to say it back."_

 _Her voice was soft and his breath dropped._

 _"I didn't expect you to."_

 _Her brow lifted. "Why? Because you didn't think I meant it, or because you didn't think I'm capable, seeing as I'm so young and have so many men in my futures?"_

 _The question was very clearly not meant sincerely and he smiled wryly._

 _"I had a feeling that would come back to bite me in the arse."_

 _"Well, pro tip: next time, before saying the stupid thing, if you know it's a stupid thing, maybe don't say the stupid thing."_

 _His smile grew. He loved her._

 _"Duly noted."_

 _She nodded as if that were done and dusted, but there was still attitude in her tone._

 _"Good. Because I may not be a thousand years old, but I don't need to be to know that there is no man, present or future, who could ever compare to you."_

 _He blinked. Had she just announced her feelings for him with a stroppy attitude still in tow? Damn, he loved her._

 _Then her eyes softened and she neared, placing a hand on his jaw._

 _"And I may not have lived several dozen lives yet, but I know that I want to spend all those lives with you." She leaned in and then, before he was ready, the words tumbled out. "I love you, Klaus Mikaelson."_

 _For once in his life he had absolutely no idea how to react. There was no witticism; no insult. No flirt or slight. He had absolutely no idea what she was seeing on his face._

 _So he said the only thing he could, the only thing there was. He told her the truth._

 _"I love you too, Caroline."_

 _She smiled the way only Caroline Forbes smiled – all at once, as if her entire body and soul were the source for the sheer kilowatts expended from her lips. He would be blinded if he weren't so addicted._

 _Then she tugged him forward by the shirt and kissed him entirely too roughly, pushing her teeth and lips against his as if needing to brand them both with the words they'd just uttered. As if engraving them, so they could never take them back. He didn't mind it._

 _Her lips pulled away but her forehead fell to his. She was breathless and so was he. There was tenderness in her eyes as she looked into his._

 _"Thank you for saving me."_

 _He reached up, caressing her cheek with his finger._

 _"You've never said that before."_

 _She grinned. "Don't get used to it."_

 _He nodded solemnly and she giggled, high and enthusiastic. Then she pushed her forehead against his._

 _"Look… we both know I didn't mean most of what I said earlier, but one thing_ was _true: You're not my boyfriend." His eyes focused on hers as he held his breath. Her face was serious. "You're way more than that, Klaus. You always will be."_

 _He let himself breathe again just as she placed her lips against his._

 _The kiss was soft then more forceful and he let himself get lost in it. Which had clearly been her plan because, just when he lifted his hands with the intent to pull her close, she grabbed his wrists and yanked them back down before pulling away, her eyes sly._

 _"If you'll excuse me, I have some very. Bad. Things. To do to the man I love."_

 _He chuckled before she undid his zipper, the sound ringing through the air and making the smile drop from his face._

* * *

Caroline looks at him with a quirked eyebrow.

"What are _you_ thinking about?"

He smiles.

"You."

She rolls her eyes, but asks anyway: "What _about_ me?"

He smirks.

"About touching you in a way I'm apparently not allowed."

Her gaze contains just the right amount of tease.

"Technically I didn't say you weren't _allowed_ , I said it wasn't a good _idea_."

He smiles, his hand going to the apple of her cheek. She draws in the smallest of breaths and it makes him stroke with just a little more purpose, though it's still barely more than a brush.

"Caroline Forbes, are you flirting with me?"

She quirks a brow.

"Clearly not well enough, if you have to ask."

That makes him chuckle and she looks pleased with herself.

Without really thinking he moves even closer and her eyes don't waver from his.

Instead her hand comes up, too, and begins to caress the hand he has on her face. A little uncertainly, at first, before it becomes steadier and he's left to catalogue his body's many responses to a touch this simple. Then again, this is Caroline, after all.

"You know," she starts suddenly, her voice low but light, "I always liked the idea of you and me."

He almost freezes – it's about the last thing in the world he would've expected her to say. Then again, trying to predict her had never played out in his favour.

He's still trying to formulate a response when she laughs a little.

"The _idea_. I knew – or, thought I knew, I guess – that it would never work out in reality, but in my head it was this fun concept to play around with. Girls want their fairytales to come true – and I did always have a fascination with Beauty and the Beast."

He stares at her in utter confusion and somehow his reasoning makes it out aloud.

"…Why did you never tell me these things?"

She searches his eyes then shrugs.

"I don't know." She blinks. "I don't remember."

He lets out a breath, feeling foolish. "I'm sorry, love –"

But she's already shaking her head. "It's ok."

Her hand drops from his, though, and he sees uncertainty in her blue eyes.

"I actually have to talk to you about something."

The way she says it causes a bad feeling in his gut but he asks anyway, his hand still.

"What would that be?"

She's riddled with concern now, so much so that she struggles to meet his eyes.

"Well, it's about my memories." She nibbles nervously on her lip. "I know you asked me to tell you if I got any back…"

He swallows, trying to continue forcing air into his lungs.

"Alright…"

Finally she seems able to force herself to make eye contact again, and for a few seconds she holds it steady. A few seconds is all she needs.

"I need to know whether you're really ok with all of this. That you're fine with me burning my journals, and that I may never be the Caroline you were in love with."

She looks away here, wincing a little, and he already feels shattered all over.

It's his duty, though, to protect _her_. Far too often, from herself.

"Love –"

"No, I'm not trying to run. I still mean everything I said earlier. I just need to know that this is what you want, too. Because if _that Caroline_ is the one you'll always want, then I get that. And if the memories – or at least trying to get them back – are a deal-breaker for you, then I'd understand. I just need to know."

Klaus stares back at the blonde, now altogether breathless.

Never before had she stood before him with her own feelings on the table, asking him if _he_ wanted _her_. It's absurd. It's terrifying.

So he says the only thing he can. He tells her the truth.


	21. Chapter 21

I know, I'm _the worst_. Thank you so much for all the reviews (and the ones that were thinly concealed bribes/threats lol) and I'm so sorry for leaving you on a cliffhanger and then disappearing for forever. But I moved out on my own like a real adult, work has gotten crazzzyyy and I don't have WiFi set up at home yet (adulting is hard). This update brought to you by my cellphone. As always, I'm doing my best to get chapters done as fast as possible and even if I'm not able to reply, your reviews urge me on even further, so thank you for all the feedback.

We'realmost to the end, guys! Thank you for sticking through it and I hope you enjoy this one, lmk xx

* * *

She stops breathing at the look in his eyes.

The first time she'd laid eyes on Klaus, he'd been threatening Tyler's life right in front of her. Yet she has never felt more scared of him than she does right now.

Their entire relationship – even what she doesn't remember, so far as she can tell – had always been him standing in front of her, asking. _I fancy you,_ he'd said, and brought her entire life crashing down.

Now it's turned the other way round and, god, she wants to be sick she's so nervous.

She'd been about to tell him about getting her memories back, really, she had. But then suddenly she'd realised that what she needs to know, more than anything, is if he still wants her without them. And so a different confession had made it out.

That she'd wanted him. That she'd changed. That she still wants him. That she wants him to still want her.

She sucks in a breath when he takes a step even closer, so there's no room between their bodies. Then both his hands come up to her neck and for a moment her eyes close – god, he's a killer but her eyes _close_ with his hands on her neck – and she gets entirely caught up in the texture of his skin against hers.

The thing about being a vampire, about heightened senses, is that you have to choose what to feel or you'd end up going crazy with all the stimuli. She'd nearly gone that route. But, once you adjust; get used to it, the choice seems to happen subconsciously.

And right now, in this moment, all she senses is him. His scent, his hips pressed lightly to hers, his breath on her lips and, god, his touch.

"Caroline," he says, and her eyes open again, the look in his nearly shattering her, "there is no world in which the answer to that question is not yes. And if there were, I would find it and destroy it."

She almost topples back at his words but he holds her steady – holds her with his hands; with his eyes.

"I don't care if you turned off your humanity, lost your memories, murdered your way from here to Bombay, or burned every bit of literature and art in this world – there is no iteration of you, Caroline Forbes, whom I do not want."

She stares at him, utterly breathless. She wants to laugh and cry and explode but, most of all, she wants to ask how it's possible for him to love her so much.

Because somehow she knows. She knows with every fibre of her being that everything he just said is true.

And why shouldn't she? He'd waited thirty-five goddamn years for her. Which she still can't wrap her brain around, by the way.

"K-Klaus –" she starts, but it's not enough; even with all her talent for rambling none of it could ever be enough, so she moves forward to reply the only way she can really comprehend.

It's another soft kiss and again she feels him hesitate, but he recuperates from his surprise faster this time.

His hands on her tighten, his thumbs pressing into her throat as he kisses her hard, like he really does intend on breaking her tonight. At the intensity, her eyes flutter open for a moment and she catches sight of his shut tight. It sends a shiver down her spine.

She's really kissing an Original. Not just any Original, but _Klaus_.

She'd dreamt of this for longer than she'd ever admit to anyone.

Her hands tangle in his hair and she feels his smile against her lips, which for some reason she can't prevent from making her smile, too, and they pull away from each other still smiling, him tenderly pushing her hair behind her ears.

Caroline's eyes slowly re-open to find his gleaming back at her.

"Was that not in contravention of your rule?" Klaus asks in a near-whisper, like a teasing secret between just the two of them.

She grins. "Y _ou_ aren't allowed to kiss _me_. I said nothing of the opposite." His smile widens and she winks. "Guess you're rubbing off on me, _Mr Three Steps Ahead_."

For a second his eyes widen just a little and she knows that look – she's said something that reminds him of Past Caroline. But he extinguishes it in a second.

"I like the sound of that, sweetheart."

She giggles, in spite of herself, and he smirks slyly. She can already see him coming up with a thousand ways to tempt her into kissing him.

Still, she can't draw her mind away from it completely; can't shake his reaction off – especially when minutes ago she'd been about to tell him about the sporadically returning memories.

She's trying to figure out how to broach the subject again when something beeps downstairs.

"That's the food," Klaus notes.

He brushes his thumb down her cheek lightly before stepping away and she finds herself blurting out his name.

"Klaus!" He frowns and she blushes at her own outburst. "Um, I need to tell you something."

"Alright."

He waits and she stares back, feeling like she can barely breathe.

In classic Caroline fashion, she hadn't thought it through – _she should've first told him_. Now it's infinitely worse.

How, after the moment they'd just shared, does she tell him that not only has she been lying this whole time, but also that the woman he'd just given up on is still trying to fight her way through? That somewhere inside herself there is the tiniest of chances that Past Caroline still exists?

She's floundering, breathless, when her mother's words come back to her.

 _I think there can be honour in keeping a secret to prevent someone you care about from getting hurt._

Forcing oxygen into her lungs, Caroline clears her throat.

"…I just… wanted to admit, uh, that I _am_ actually looking forward to trying your cooking."

He smiles. "As you should be. Come on."

Forcing a smile back, she follows him into the house.

And, surprisingly, she doesn't feel regret.

Guilt, maybe, but not regret. As they go back downstairs, she realises why: telling him would've only dragged them back into the past – what she wants is a future with him.

 _Rest in peace, Caroline Forbes_.

* * *

"So – while your moans have not gone unappreciated, do I now get a final verdict, sweetheart?"

God. She had totally not meant to moan even once. Screw him for actually being a good cook.

Fighting off a blush, she lays down her fork, opting to raise a brow instead.

"What, verbal appreciation isn't enough for you?"

He smirks, letting her know they're on the same page.

"Not when it comes to the _dining_ room."

She ducks her head with a laugh before nodding in concession.

"Fine, yes, Klaus – your cooking is awesome."

His eyes narrow. "Better than cooking an egg or grilling a steak?"

She laughs again, tickled by how much he took that insult to heart.

" _Yes_ , ok. Your ceviche alone was more than enough proof of that."

He sits back, satisfied. "Fantastic."

With a roll of her eyes she sits back too, observing him. He smirks.

"Is your mother expecting you home at a decent hour?"

"Decent? Probably not." She looks at him with mock suspicion. "Actually, she'd probably be glad if I never came back. Which is quite an achievement, by the way. One day you'll have to tell me how, exactly, you charm the world's most uptight sheriff into offering her daughter up to the town villain."

This makes him chuckle.

"You should give your mother more credit, love – trust me, it wasn't easy at all. Nor was there any offering."

She finds the smile dropping from her face.

"I do." His eyes find hers as her hands finds his on the table. "I do trust you."

 _It's okay. It's okay, it's me. It's okay. You're safe._

For the first time she can think about that memory without her skin crawling. She really does feel safe with him.

"…Do you ever wonder what your life would be like if you hadn't met someone?" she ponders aloud.

She imagines Elena never once uttering his name. Him not blowing into their rendition of Senior Prank Night; not shouting at Tyler in the middle of their Biology class as her boyfriend retched. The hurricane of Klaus Mikaelson – all blood, extremes, bourbon and auburn. What had started there had ended up here.

 _I fancy you,_ he'd said, and brought her entire life crashing down.

"No," he answers easily, with a shrug, "one could go mad thinking that way."

She grins. "Yeah, because you're just the picture of sanity."

He grins back, half-sly; half-bashful. She doesn't know why, but it makes her blush, so she looks away.

"You know," he begins thoughtfully, "normally people only ask that question when they're either regretting someone's presence in their life, or when they can't imagine their life without them."

She doesn't turn at first – waits a second; considers.

Thirty-eight years of her life gone.

 _The undead beating heart of the one who won the hybrid's heart._

Slowly, surely, her gaze connects with his.

"I don't regret meeting you."

She listens to his heart and his breathing. Neither misses a beat, but he also doesn't blink as he stares at her; takes in her and her words.

They're caressing each other's hands as they stare and she finds herself wanting more; finds herself moving closer.

There's uncertainty in his eyes but he comes closer too and she smiles a little just before their lips connect.

She wonders if seeing the hybrid shy ever loses its novelty. Based on how she can't get over how damn warm and kissable his lips are, she's guessing no.

The smile disappears quickly when her hand comes up to his face and the result is almost too tender – she pulls away.

She instinctively doesn't move her hand, though, and he seems to relish its presence.

"I should tell you something," he says after a second.

She cocks her head. "Ok…"

"Earlier, when you spoke of the past few decades, I wasn't entirely honest."

Her stomach cramps up. He'd promised her she would have him to herself now. Was that a lie?

God, is he about to tell her there was somebody else?

"You assumed that there had been other women," he continues, swallowing a little too heavily as he maintains their eye contact, "and I didn't correct you. But there weren't."

Her mouth struggles to form the words.

"There… weren't?"

"No."

Her mother's insight should've made this easier for her to deal with, but it hasn't, and the way he's staring at her like a hawk definitely isn't helping. She pushes out a breath; a sentence, just to clear up some space in her chest.

"Not even one?"

He shakes his head a little, without dislodging her hand; without breaking eye contact.

"Not for a night; not for a minute. There was nobody else but you, Caroline."

Her mouth opens and closes a few times before she manages to blink and find another question.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

His shrug is almost annoyed. "It seemed ridiculous to say aloud."

It takes just a second for her to translate that from Original Hybrid: he'd been embarrassed.

She's amazed; can't seem to take her eyes off him, and he looks away for a second – at the finished plates – before meeting her eyes lightly.

"Shall we head into the living room?" he asks. "I can light the fireplace."

She hesitates for only a second before nodding.

"Lead the way."

* * *

She watches him crouched by the fireplace, waiting for the flame to catch alight.

She takes in the lines of his body; where his Henley rides up to reveal the tiniest inch of his back. She notes the curve of his neck; the alignment of his shoulders.

There is rare calm in his jaw and, suddenly, the fire springs to life. It lights up his features, the orange playing on the russet tones in his stubble.

"Are you just standing there peeping?" he quips, and she glimpses the side of a smirk.

Glaring at his back, she sinks down onto a sofa, trying to come up with an excuse.

" _Sitting_. And I'm looking at the fire, not you."

"Is there a difference?" he asks, approaching with a quirked brow.

She smiles.

"Klaus Mikaelson, are you flirting with me?"

He sits with a lopsided smirk. "Perpetually. But it's an uphill battle."

She can't help it, she laughs. But her eyes wander off with her mind as they catch on the fire. She gets sucked into it; at the flames licking at the wood. It reminds her of burning her journals. Fire means free to her, now.

"What are you thinking about?" he wonders.

She shrugs. "About the fire. I always used to light it too. Tyler never got why. He said we couldn't feel the cold or, for that matter, the heat. He said there wasn't any point."

The Original bristles and she winces, realising her stupidity.

"Shit," she exhales in a rush. "Um, I totally didn't mean to mention my ex..."

The look in his eyes says he would rather it have gone unacknowledged, and she personally is tempted to gouge out her own tongue.

But the hybrid tries to shake it off: "Yes, well, the boy never really had any flair for aesthetic."

She bites on her lip. She really shouldn't ask.

But – if she doesn't, how will she ever know? Tyler's already the subject of the conversation, she'll never have another opportunity as good as this.

"Um… what happened to him? Tyler?"

Klaus shifts. She notices that, though they're seated closely, it's further than she would've chosen.

"…If you could believe it, I'm not entirely sure."

A brow shoots up.

"You're right, I find that really hard to believe."

He lets out a sigh and shrugs.

"Last I knew, he was getting into scrapes with the supernatural underbelly of the Alps. It was bad and only heading for worse. I _assumed_ him dead, but then the entire Reese debacle happened, and there were more important things on my mind than corpse confirmation."

She nods thoughtfully and, as she's nodding, realises she doesn't _actually care_ either. With her brain, maybe, but her heart's indifferent.

Whatever she'd felt for Tyler seems almost non-existent, and she's not sure if it's because her body somehow knows it had been decades ago, or if it's because her teenage romance just feels so incredibly far away from this moment right now.

"I'm sorry," she pulls a face. "For bringing him up."

He nods slowly, seemingly appreciative of the apology, but then shrugs it off too.

"I shouldn't still be bothered by it."

Right. It had been almost forty years since Tyler had been an issue. Well. Unless you counted –

 _"Why was I with you? How could I be?"_

 _"I don't – "_

 _"You don't know? Because it makes no sense? Because everything you are repulses me and I'd never be with a monster like you?"_

 _"I don't know how to answer that."_

 _"Answer it with the consideration that maybe I was pretending all along and you just fell for it."_

 _"…You … you loved me."_

 _"I love Tyler."_

"Maybe you are because it wasn't all that long ago that I said I was in love with him."

He doesn't quite meet her eyes; is clearly not going to answer that with anything concrete.

"…Have I mentioned how sorry I am about that day?"

He shrugs again. "You had every right to react the way you did."

She looks away with a heavy sigh. She did. And yet the emotion from that day, not so long ago, makes zero sense to her now. That Caroline who hadn't wanted to share a bench with the Original hybrid is now trying to think up ways to edge closer. That Caroline who hadn't trusted him an inch – had trusted _Damon_ more for the truth – had not been the same Caroline who had just held his hand and sincerely assured him that she trusts him.

And it's crazy, isn't it? Suddenly she has no idea who Past Caroline is.

There must be many, she thinks. _One day the me sitting here right now will be Past Caroline._

"What's wrong?" he asks, clearly attuned to her disappearing inside her own mind.

"I was just thinking… about how fleeting life is; how it changes, even for vampires. That we'll never get this moment back again."

How there are more ways to lose time than by missing memories.

Klaus is frowning, like maybe he knows what she's saying but not why, or where she's going with it. And maybe it's the little bit of confusion that makes her decide – screw coming up with an excuse to get closer. She leans across in one confident movement and her hand lands on his cheek as he catches her by the shoulder.

Their lips connect and his tiny surprised smile fades quickly when she keeps moving closer, all but settling into his lap. She licks a line across the seam of his lips and his Adam's apple bobs against her thumb as he opens his mouth to her. She lets out the softest whimper at the heat of his mouth; the curl of his tongue laced with the red wine they had with dinner. He tastes so familiar even though she's mentally smacking herself for not having kissed him like this sooner.

His hand goes to her waist but his touch is uncertain, like he's waiting for her permission. But it tightens when she tilts forward and presses her chest against his with a soft whimper.

She kisses him harder and he responds in kind, nipping at her lip. She squeals in surprise then sucks his tongue into her mouth as punishment.

Now he pushes forward, like he plans on laying them down on the couch, and she's hoping to god he is.

She pulls away for a breath and his mouth immediately goes to her neck, down to her throat. She's burning up and his searing mouth moving over her collar bones is the fire.

Suddenly he dips her back, his hand supporting the arch of her body, and she stares at the ceiling for a second before her eyes flutter closed as his kisses continue down her chest; down her cleavage. She's breathing hard, trying to figure out the least desperate way to beg him to undress her, when she realises she's shaking.

Not in a sexy turned-on sort of way, but actually trembling, and she doesn't know why. Klaus notices too and he rises to frown at her in concern.

"Are you alright, love?"

She wants to reply but her mouth seems to struggle to form words and suddenly there is more than one Klaus, like a bad superimposition.

It takes her a second before she remembers when else this has happened and then she wants to tell him but, as her mouth opens, her body goes limp and the world turns black.


	22. Chapter 22

Hello, all my lovely readers! I appreciate your patience and all your reviews and pleas for more... Clearly they have worked ;) And this time, to make up for the shorter previous chapters, it's a long one :) I'm so so excited to get your feedback for this chapter so please give me an ocean of emotion once you finish ;)

xx

* * *

"God, I'm so sorry."

"Caroline, don't apologise."

But he's looking at her like she's his favourite book someone had spilled coffee on, and his hand goes to her forehead then her cheek.

"You're sure you're alright?" he frowns, like he would never believe that even if she said it a million times.

"I'm ok. Really."

"You said this has happened before?"

"Yeah, right when I first woke up. Must be another one of the spell's _amazing_ side-effects."

He seems a hair away from flying into a rage. "Yes."

"Please don't worry. I'm totally fine." He looks at her uncertainly and she shifts. "…Although I could use a moment in the bathroom."

He nods, like this is a plan he can approve of. "And I'll get you some blood. The bathroom is through there."

She takes a second to make sure her legs are actually working before following the way he'd pointed and stepping into the bathroom.

She notes happily that most of her makeup is still in place, with the exception of her lipstick, a little bit of which is on her chin – the rest is probably on Klaus somewhere. She smiles.

Quickly her eyes take stock of the rest of her appearance. She re-positions her boobs then checks on her limbs. Her ankles seem to be holding up despite the huge heels she's rocking, and her legs and arms aren't shaking anymore. All in all she feels perfectly back to normal.

God, that stupid spell. It literally ruined everything.

She's wiping the lipstick off her chin when she finds herself thinking about that diary entry again. And then the taste of Klaus' tongue; the press of his hands, the heat of his mouth.

 _I think I'm high. I think you make me high._

Just like that, electricity is zinging through her body again, right to her fingertips. That's his effect on her. Just thinking about him has her wanting.

She shakes her head at herself and is about to head out of the bathroom and back to the lounge when she halts. Turning to look at the staircase, she nibbles at her lip for a second.

Then, without giving herself time to change her mind, she heads upstairs.

* * *

Klaus is worried when he returns to the lounge to find it empty.

He'd taken a while in the kitchen, forcing his anger to dissipate before he dared return to Caroline. He still can't believe he'd let himself go through with that bloody spell. Not only had she lost her bloody memories, but she's also experiencing painful side-effects?!

He wishes he had someone to choke or a heart to rip out, but there is nothing – which is disconcerting for him. He is not used to having problems without a face he can destroy. So, faced with neither an enemy to dismantle nor a way to a solution, overcoming his frustrated fury had taken its due time. Then he'd located a blood bag, warmed it a little and emptied it into a wine glass before making his way back. And yet, Caroline is still not back.

Concern in his gut, he sets down the glass and speeds to the bathroom, only to frown when he notices the door ajar and the room empty. Caroline is elsewhere.

His head whips from side to side but, catching no sight of her, he tunes his hearing instead.

Bedroom, nothing. Study, nothing. Another bedroom, nothing. Guest bathroom, nothing. Gym, nothing. Bedroom, nothing. Linen closet, nothing. Wait – there.

He freezes in surprise. For a moment he questions reality. Then he speeds upstairs, blowing right into his own bedroom.

Caroline turns with a smile, her eyes glazed over in fascination as if she'd been caught examining something of great interest. Before he's able to catch himself, he feels self-conscious.

He remembers the first time she'd entered his bedroom. She'd gone around and commented on nearly everything, like she wanted him to be at his most vulnerable before she would allow herself to stay.

 _"How come you have so many watches, rings and necklaces when you never wear any of them? You just always wear that cross, and you're like the least religious person in the world."_

 _"You certainly seem to enjoy tugging on it."_

 _When she was on top, riding him, usually. She'd twirl it around her palm and knuckles before drawing close and working her hips as he drew a nipple into his mouth. She'd tug harder and harder and he'd think he should tell her_ it _didn't have hybrid durability, but then the pressure would become too much and he'd be all caught up in her stifling perfection._

 _She shot him a look now, like she wasn't impressed by that retort._

 _Then back to her mission._

 _"Ok, how many remotes does one hybrid need? You know you have super speed, right? Are you actually really lazy? Is that the big bad hybrid's deepest darkest secret?"_

"What?" she asks, her eyes twinkling.

If he didn't know any better, he'd think she was remembering it too.

"Nothing," he shakes his head. "I just wasn't expecting you to be in here."

She raises an eyebrow. "Really?"

He thinks of the glorious way she'd been kissing him; of finally getting to taste her skin again.

His grin is sheepish.

"Well. Hoping and expecting are two very different things, love."

She nears and he wonders why he's so nervous. It's a rare emotion for the Original.

It's something about the way she's looking at him. Like everything is about to change.

That's happened enough times, by now, to cause panic.

But her hand goes first to his collar then skates over his jaw to his hair. He works hard to suppress the need to keel into her touch. He cannot believe he managed over three decades without it.

Caroline draws even closer and her breath is on his lips. She draws her tongue daintily over his bottom lip, like a skipping stone, and if she intends to get his breathing uneven then she succeeds.

He's a breath away from pressing her to him when she pulls back and looks up at him through her eyelashes. He wonders how, despite their heights, he always feels he's the one looking up at her.

"I changed my mind," she says in a soft, almost disbelieving, voice.

"About what?" he asks automatically.

His mind is on her touch and the way, at this angle, he can see the round of her braless breasts. His throat is dry as he recalls holding them; sucking them onto his tongue. He could worship them for hours, he just needs her to let him.

She opens her mouth but he presses closer to murmur against her cheek. She has to know how much he needs her.

"Caroline."

Her hand tightens in his hair as she no doubt feels his rapidly hardening member.

But he doesn't even care about getting off. He just wants to touch her. He just wants her to _let_ him touch her.

"I was going to say," she starts, breathy, "to forget about what I said." Her eyes flick up to his. "Kiss me, Klaus."

It's about the only thing in the world she could've said to sober him up. He freezes.

* * *

He's frozen and she doesn't know why, is second-guessing herself, when he speaks.

"What made you change your mind?"

She half-shrugs – not because she doesn't know, but because there are so many reasons.

She goes with the one that's truest; the most-formed.

"There's so much I don't remember… but, I don't want anything to stand between us anymore."

His eyes widen as he loses a soft breath.

Then he kisses her.

Klaus Mikaelson kisses her for the first time. Well, that she can remember, anyway. And, with the way he launches forward, she expects it to be aggressive – and she does stumble back with the force – but it's not. It's not even a little hard or forceful.

His lips are soft on hers, not teasing either but testing; re-acquainting. It makes an image wriggle into her mind: of him standing above her coffin, watching and wishing he could put his lips to hers.

It stops her from engaging.

She lets him slip his thumb along her jaw and bring his fingers down her throat as his lips press against hers, tender and wanting.

He presses closer, his forehead to hers, and she parts her lips to him.

His tongue is a red-hot poker of need – needing her to be here; to be real. Even his fingers on her are barely a brush, and yet she feels desperation from the very skin on them. His kiss tells her things she struggles to make sense of rationally.

All she knows, as she starts to kiss him back, is that she has never felt this before. She has never felt needed to this extent in a way that has nothing to do with sex. It makes her feel indescribably full.

She thinks: _He loves me._

She pulls away from his lips with her chest heaving, desperate for oxygen.

"Klaus," she manages to breathe.

Her head is spinning.

She watches his eyes flutter open. Had they ever been quite this blue before?

"What?" he wonders, his tone soft even as his eyes worry.

He'd let himself be vulnerable again. It's all that kiss had been.

She shakes her head as she tries to verbalise; catch her breath.

"I… I never would've imagined you could kiss me like that."

"I waited thirty-five years for you, Caroline Forbes, and I'd wait even longer – I love you." She gasps and he moves a wisp of her hair. "I'll kiss you however you let me."

He stares as she struggles to formulate even the beginning of a reply, then caresses her cheek with a smirk.

"Caroline Forbes speechless twice in one night."

She rolls her eyes but without much heat to it; a smile already blooming on her lips.

"Not speechless – breathless. You make me breathless."

The smirk disappears, and this time they both lean into it.

She wonders whether every single kiss with Klaus will be different. This one isn't tender at all – it's all passion as he holds her tight and her hands go to his chest, wishing he were significantly less dressed.

She almost struggles to pull away from the kiss, he's holding her so tight, and she draws back to see his eyes glazed over. Her core clenches.

And though the nerves she'd felt while wandering around his room haven't entirely dissipated – she's scared to be this vulnerable with the Original Hybrid – she still does it.

With a flick of her tongue over her lips, she leans up to talk into his ear.

"I want you."

His hand tightens on her waist and she almost whimpers – her body is like a minefield and his every touch is an explosion for which she has no way to prepare.

He presses his forehead to hers and their hot breaths mingle.

"Caroline," he murmurs again, like her name is a hymn he needs.

"God, I want to see you," she realises, the realisation so heavy that she can barely force breaths down her dry throat.

She wants to see him and touch him and feel him.

His smile is a bit manic.

"Me first."

Her laugh is a surprise.

"Uh-uh, no way. _Me first._ "

He backs up just enough for them to stare at each other incredulously.

"Seriously, Klaus? Fair's fair. You know what's under this dress, but I have no idea what you look like."

"I've also been waiting thirty-five years."

"Then I'm sure you can wait a few more minutes."

He bites back a breath and she can tell he's torn between wanting to argue further and being turned on at how much she wants to see him first.

She cuts off his indecision by pushing at his jacket. He stumbles a little, not having expected it, but then he helps her get it off.

Her hands run down his arms, savouring the muscles there. Then she goes to his buttons, aware of his stare on her. She undoes each one with a patience she doesn't feel.

She wants him badly but she also doesn't want to rush it.

It's slow and sultry when she untucks his shirt and she wants to just let hand keep lowering – but no, don't rush it.

A little gasp escapes her lips when she finishes with the buttons and his chest is revealed to her. Slowly – god, so slowly – her hands meander down the exposed skin as she notes his sharp intake of breath.

"Caroline –"

But he cuts himself off by pulling her into a sweeping kiss and she can read his impatience by the pressure of his lips; the strength of his fingers on her jaw.

She has to tear herself away because she still wants to touch him. She feels his chest; the definition of his abs, before sliding down to his belt buckle. She undoes it and, all at once, he's had enough.

His hands jump to her back, to her zip, and she wants to protest but suddenly he's kissing her so hard that she's stumbling back. When he's got her zipper down he steadies her into his arms.

Her jaw is slack; her chest heaving.

"You cheated."

"I'm the Original hybrid, sweetheart. I don't play fair."

That sends tingles down her spine.

She manages a second to push his shirt off his shoulders before he spins her around, the littlest of space between their bodies.

She's barely breathing as he runs his hands down her arms then tugs gently at the back of the dress. He lays kisses down her neck as he lowers the dress off her and it's amazing she's not a puddle on the floor, because the way his lips skim her skin make her want to dissolve. All that tethers her to staying upright is the careful determination of his hands.

They go down her back, lower and lower until the dress has cleared her body and Klaus sucks in a sharp breath.

"No underwear, love."

Her cheeks burn a little at him having discovered this, something she'd already decided at the beginning of the night. Well, hesitantly, anyway.

She arches her neck uncertainly, trying to catch his eye.

"Is it ok? I wasn't sure if you're into that."

He lets out a long breath and it swirls down between her breasts.

"You're perfect, Caroline." His lips on the nape of her neck. "How could I ever want anything concealing that?"

She's wondering if it's possible to be any wetter when he pulls her closer and his undone belt buckle scrapes against her ass.

"Oh my god," she whimpers, feeling need for him in parts of her body she didn't even know she could. There's an aching in her _bones_ for him.

Desperately, she remembers Past Caroline's diary entry. Remembers that he likes begging.

"Please, Klaus."

With a little rumble in his throat his hand slips to her front and she arches up as his hand slides between her thighs. She hears the 'shit' in her ear when he moves to draw a finger up her slit but meets her wetness even before then.

He's hesitating in surprise when she spins around, unrelenting in her kiss. He moans and this time they're both stumbling, lost in it. And, god, she's so far gone even though he's barely touched her.

She sucks in a breath when he cups her breasts into his hands carefully; reverently. He touches her as if she is an idol he is desperate to worship.

For a few seconds he just feels, dragging his thumbs over her nipples; re-acclimating to her. Then suddenly he's no longer kissing her lips but her clavicle, and she's so tense by the time he gets to her breastbone that she hisses at the pain of her fingernails digging into her palms.

She's not sure if he hears but suddenly he stops and, reaching out, unfurls her fingers before setting them at the base of his spine. She gets the message: _Hurt me, not you._

She does. Her nails bite into his bare lower back as he lowers, taking her breast into his mouth. She's whimpering and feels her nails break skin when he sucks roughly on her nipple.

"Oh my god," she breathes. "Klaus."

She can barely take a second more of it and it's like he can read her body, because suddenly he's pressing her toward his bed, his eyes back on hers.

When the backs of her legs hit his bed, his lips go to brush against hers.

"I need to taste you, Caroline," he half-begs, half-growls.

She's nodding before she's even properly processed his words. She thinks of the diary entry; of him making her come without even trying.

"Yes. God, Klaus, yes."

She can't even follow it – one second he's staring at her with the scariest sexiest look ever, and the next she's on her back, his lips skipping over her stomach. With the way he's rushing and she's trembling, she's not sure which of them is more desperate for this.

He curses when his nose lands between her legs. Her hands grab fistfuls of his blankets. He parts her legs further and she wants to shout for him to just get on with it because, god, just his breath is driving her crazy.

He looks at her one last time and she gasps at the quick flash of gold in his eyes before he ducks down and she shouts anyway.

He moans at the first taste and her hands go to his hair as his tongue caresses her folds. Her hips lift and he presses them back down.

"Oh my god, oh my god," she bites at her lip.

He knows her body way too well – that becomes abundantly clear all too quickly. Because in the time it normally took other guys just to get her ready, she feels her hips shaking.

"Shit," she cries, because he's beginning to suck at her clit and she's nowhere near ready yet.

God, how had Past Caroline ever turned this down?

"YES!" she screams, and then she's gone, riding Klaus' face desperately as her orgasm crashes all around her.

He's helping her, sucking and pressing, and she can barely believe it when she comes down, only to realise Klaus does not intend for there _to be_ any down. He's roped her left beg behind his neck and lifted her slightly so he has a better angle and, god, he's eating her out like it's all he has planned for today.

She almost chokes on nothing; almost comes again just seeing him like this.

This time – thank god – he's taking his time, going slow like he knows she can't handle another one so soon and that fast.

His fingers join his mouth expertly and her hips jut up again, her eyes widening at how damn good he is at that. His free hand pushes her body down again and she thrashes as she attempts to deal with the amazing sensations he's conjuring up inside her.

"Oh god, oh yes, god," she moans, as if in answer to his constant hum of ecstasy, the vibration only further pushing her higher and higher.

She presses her thighs even further apart; tries to push her body further down, but nothing quite manages to distract her from the climbing pressure inside.

God, he's good.

When he presses his tongue, flat and rough, to her swollen clit, she's done for. He moves it faster and faster, creating maddening friction, and she's tempted to beg him to stop because it hurts so goddamn good.

She doesn't know she's flailing till she notices him holding her limbs down, and she doesn't know her hands had been in his neck till she sees the blood streaming down onto his chest. It's the last thing she sees before she comes with a loud cry, her body collapsing into a burst of quakes; the Original not stopping for even a second.

It's two minutes later when she zones back in completely, with enough presence of mind to become shy at the Original standing beside the bed, watching her.

"Are you just standing there peeping?" she tries to sound like she's not blushing profusely.

He nods, shameless.

"You're ravishing."

She swallows. In the back of her mind she still can't believe Klaus – Original ass, villain of all villains, Klaus – had just had his tongue and fingers inside her; had given her the best orgasms of her life with just them. It's surreal.

The front of her mind, however, is very very concerned with his blood-streaked perfect chest and his low-slung jeans. His belt is still undone and the hips peeking up from the waistline makes her lick her lips.

God, she can't remember ever being this turned on by someone.

Gingerly she sits up and scoots nearer to him, ignoring the way he's watching her like a hawk. All she has eyes for is the V heading down into his jeans. She places her lips at the top of it and hears his soft hiss.

Her hands work at the buttons on his jeans as her lips follow the path downward. She grins triumphantly when the last button pops free and her hands deftly go to pull the jeans off. When it's on the floor, she brings their bodies flush so she can lap her tongue over his skin before nibbling it lightly. Klaus is breathing heavily, his hands on her shoulders tense, when her fingers go to his boxer briefs.

She gasps when he springs free then glances up to meet his eyes, letting him know how much she wants him. Already arched slightly backward to do so, she gets an idea. Using both hands, she presses her breasts together around his hard cock. Thinking of the way she'd caught him subtly peeking at her boobs throughout tonight, she begins to move.

"Fuck," Klaus says inelegantly.

A second later he has her wrists in his hands.

"I forgot how wily you are," he admonishes, his voice gruff with desire.

Lifting a brow, she puts on her sexiest bedroom voice.

"Let me go and I'll make sure you never forget again."

He smiles, impressed, but then shakes his head with a little tut.

"Unfortunately, love, that's not on the schedule for tonight."

Roughly he pulls her wrists until they're up over her head and he's slowly letting her back down onto the bed. She can't stop her amusement and he narrows his eyes.

"Why are you smiling?"

"I'm just thinking it figures that you're a control freak even in bed."

His brow evens out as he smirks.

"Sex is _all about_ control, Caroline." He drops one of her wrists into his other hand so he has one hand free before moving it down her body. Slowly, deliberately, until he gets to her thigh and uses it to press her wide open. Her chest heaves. "Wielding it," he whispers into her ear, before pulling his lips down into her neck. His breaths scald worse than his lips. "Losing it," he says against her collarbone, and he presses himself to her so her hips jolt up.

"I l-like the sound of that," she murmurs, her throat dry.

He smiles and it's sly; damn near evil. It makes her unable to forget, this time around. He's the monster who turned Tyler into a hybrid, who killed Aunt Jenna; who had terrorised all her friends.

She wants him.

Her heels cross behind his back before she leans up to kiss him, hard. He kisses her back with equal force, in a way that makes her feel like she's drowning – in him; in them.

He's sucking on her tongue when he enters her, fully.

Her mouth falls slack as she feels her walls stretching to accommodate his huge girth. She moans into his mouth and struggles against his grip on her wrists but it's useless, he's too strong.

His free hand goes to play with her nipple, pinching then flicking then twirling, like a game meant to distract him and torture her. Her back lifts as he kisses her again, nipping on her bottom lip. She's barely adjusted to his size when he begins to move inside her, drawing breathy whimpers from her throat.

His kisses wander to her throat then down her chest, to her breasts. His hips begin to quicken as he takes a breast into his mouth, kneading the other with his hand as she moans out his name. He's twirling his tongue around her nipple when she feels his grasp weaken slightly and she brings her one hand down to tug his hair roughly.

He's still going faster, pistoning into her, and her hips rise to meet his at every thrust as her toes begin to curl inside her shoes. All she hears is their heavy breaths and the loud slaps of their bodies meeting, over and over. She'd be embarrassed about how wet she is if she were able to think about anything but how full she is; how amazing it feels.

She realises, now, why Past Caroline had said no to the head – this was somehow even better. The way he fits inside her is like he'd been made to; like he'd been designed with her pleasure in mind.

"Klaus, _oh_ –"

She intends to warn him, but that's all that makes it out when her orgasm suddenly crashes all around her, locking up her limbs as her muscles spasm almost painfully. She can feel him hard and throbbing inside her and it's like he's trying to kill her, because suddenly he reaches for her clit and she's spiralling harder; faster.

"Oh, god, shit, ah –"

He moans too and suddenly he's pumping into her erratically and she tries to meet his eyes to watch him come, but her own fall close to deal with all the sensations ripping through her body.

Above her head, she feels their fingers clasp around one another's and, for a second, she has just enough sanity left to think about how strange it is that he's supposed to be the villain.

He's supposed to be the villain, but they're holding hands as they come together.

* * *

It takes them both a while to come down.

She's had about ten seconds to overthink what, exactly, happens now, when he begins to shift. She watches as he leans down to pull her shoes off before kicking his off own, followed closely by his jeans and underwear. Embracing her, he pulls her over so they're lying on the cushions.

She realises she's smiling as she tangles her legs with his.

She doesn't know what she'd been expecting, but it hadn't been this.

Supporting her weight on her elbow, she pushes herself up to stare down at him. Her hand goes to his stubble as she ignores his piercing blue eyes.

Slowly but surely she caresses his face, liking the rough tickle at her fingers.

"I should probably go…" she posits.

"You're not going anywhere," he says gruffly, his hand settling on her butt. "Trust me, your mother will understand."

She doesn't argue. It had been a test, after all, and he'd passed. He doesn't want her to go. It somehow surprises her.

He looks suspicious at her resulting grin.

"What?"

"Nothing." Then, finding a cover: "Your hair's all messed up."

"And you're amused by that?"

"Yeah, I've never seen it all messed up before."

He rolls his eyes a little.

"Your nipples are cold."

Now she rolls her eyes. "I'm a vampire, my everything is cold."

"And while your everything is incredibly tempting, none of it is quite as distracting, in this moment, as your stiff nipples against my chest."

She wants to tease him about something that small preventing him from being able to concentrate, but she opts to pull a sheet up between their chests instead.

"Better?"

"Marginally."

She rolls her eyes again before her mind begins to wander as he plays with her hair then caresses her cheek and chin.

Eventually he frowns.

"What are you thinking about?"

Leaving a kiss on the back of his hand, she decides to be honest.

"You know what the best part is about a guy waiting thirty-five years for you?"

He smiles a little. "No, but I'm sure you'll make it interesting."

"You know he won't run away in the morning, so you can ask him anything you want after sex."

The smile grows and he shakes his head a little.

"Alright, you have me sufficiently apprehensive. What is it you'd like to know?"

She thinks about this for a second.

"…What were you like as a child?"

He shoots her a questioning look, as if querying whether that's really what she wants to know, and she nods her head. He shrugs.

"Much as I am now – "

"Yeah, that makes sense, considering all the juvenile tantrums you try to pass off as villainy."

"Are you supposed to judge me during my answers?"

She giggles. "Fine, sorry. Continue."

It takes him a second but then he does.

"Quieter, perhaps. It's when I discovered my love for art – it was a way to express emotions as quietly and as secretly as possible."

"Secretly?"

He almost bristles. "Mikael wasn't the sort of man to encourage the arts."

"So you kept quiet about something you liked, so your dad wouldn't judge you?"

He shakes his head. "It wasn't about judgement. It was about drawing ire and taunting. Mikael was relentless with it. And each deed or every reaction had its punishment. It was better to pretend you had no personality whatsoever. Elijah's pretence became reality; mine was expert. Kol never even attempted."

She watches him for a few seconds then swallows.

"Was it hard to kill him? Mikael?"

The Original's eyes dart toward hers then away. He hesitates for a few seconds too long and she frowns.

"Should it really be this hard to tell me again?"

He frowns too. "Why would you assume I've told you before?"

This surprises her.

"…Why _wouldn't_ you have?"

He stares at her, his baby blues wide open.

"You never asked."

"Oh," she says, even more surprised. Then: "Maybe she was scared to. Trying to get you to open up isn't exactly the easiest thing in the world."

This seems to be news to him and he looks away with a long exhale.

It's a while before he speaks again.

"Yes. It was difficult to kill him. Not because I cared for him, but because I'd wanted it for so long, I was scared of what would happen afterwards." His voice was full of emotion but here he stops and, when he continues, it's gruff with anger instead: "But, mostly, I felt it unjust. He deserved so much worse than a stake to the chest. He deserved to suffer for what he did to me; to my family. I wanted him to look into my eyes and be forced to feel regret; remorse."

She takes this in, nodding.

"Did you ever imagine," she teases, "that maybe he'd just _apologise_?"

Her plan works: he cracks a smile.

Then: "Mikael never apologised. For anything."

"Yeah, but in your imagination you can make people do whatever you want. Duh. I probably had my mom grovelling at my feet two hundred times between the ages of ten and fifteen."

He smiles grows full now as he shakes his head in amusement.

"Ok, moving on. Favourite sibling?"

"Rebekah," he shrugs.

"Baffling, but ok," she teases, and he chuckles. "Favourite time period?"

He thinks about this for a minute.

"It's toss-up between now and the twenties. The twenties were –"

" _The twenties_ ," she nods and he grins.

"But I rather enjoy the fast cars and the general technological charm of the twenty-first century."

She thinks for a few seconds. "Ok, something harder. Human you most admire?"

His eyes narrow at this for a second; him probably unwilling to admit he liked _any_ human, but likely correctly imagining her arguing that it's not possible for him to have lived as long as he had and not having liked even _one_ human being. So he answers.

"Nelson Mandela."

"Wait, what?"

He smirks. "You're surprised?"

"Uh, _yeah_ ," she exclaims matter-of-factly. "I thought you'd say Vladimir Lenin, or Joseph Stalin or something."

He seems very amused by this.

"Yes, well, while their leadership styles were impressive, they didn't play the long game, did they? They were forced out of power and are now thought of as some of humanity's biggest scourges."

She frowns. "But Nelson Mandela…"

"He was a man of principles. So much so, that nothing they did broke him. Nothing they took from him mattered. They banished him to imprisonment on an island and he still didn't break."

Caroline watches the way his eyes are lit up and in them she sees the younger version of himself he'd just described. Hiding from Mikael; wishing he could be stronger. That he wouldn't break.

"Instead he became president," Klaus was continuing. "And now he's a legend. Literally. No man or woman in that country can claim not to be grateful for what he did. Even those who privately hate him. He died, but his power only increased tenfold."

She tries to work this out. "So it's about legacy? Leadership and legacy?"

He nods.

"If I could die, I would have wanted to live the way he did."

She thinks about this for a while. Then: "Did you ever meet him?"

Klaus smiles wistfully. "Once. He didn't like me. Said I needed to work on forgiveness."

She remembers her own words to him, so long ago.

 _"Did you ever consider sitting down with your father and talking it out?"_

Caroline gasps, half-mockingly. "So you're saying you met Nobel Peace Prize-winning _Nelson Mandela_ and he told you the same thing I did?"

He rolls his eyes but smiles.

"What's the next question?"

She leans her chin down onto her hands on his chest. "Hmmm…"

"For precisely how long do I have to endure this interrogation?"

"For as long as I say," she informs him bossily. "What's your favourite childhood memory?"

The question catches him halfway through another protest and the words die on his lips. Klaus' eyes seem to plead with her to pick another question but she stares at him, waiting, and he sighs.

"It was with my brother, Henrik. You don't know him –"

"The one who died?" she asks softly.

He nods with a heavy sigh.

"…We discovered an apple tree. At first we simply sampled the fruit, laughing and talking about the girls in the village. Then Kol came upon us and taught us there was another way of enjoying apples – by launching them at each other. Henrik and I worked as a team against Kol, absolutely clobbering him –" he's smiling widely, lost in reverie, "and then Rebekah found us and joined Kol. Within minutes we were so loud that Elijah found us too. He started admonishing us, before we realised he made for an even better target than each other, and soon we were all just running around lobbing apples at each other."

Caroline's smiling too, trying hard to imagine Elijah, Kol, Klaus or Rebekah giggling and dodging apples.

"Then my mother found us. We all immediately straightened up, afraid she would call Mikael. But she didn't. She looked at the mess we were in, looked at all the burst apples on the ground and told us to gather every single one and bring them to her kitchen. Then she told us we all had terrible aim and, with a shadow of a smile, turned and headed back home."

She realises she's never seen him like this.

Nostalgic, happy, yearning – whatever. No word really comes close to the gloss of light in his eyes and the content curve of his jaw. He's looking up at the roof, but it's like he's a million years away – a thousand, she supposes – and he's happier there, in that one moment, then he has been for all the time after it put together.

"We couldn't believe our luck, of course. So we all, even Kol, got to doing as she'd said as we laughed and joked, and Rebekah and Henrik sang."

Caroline finds this even harder to imagine.

"And soon the kitchen was full of what looked like hundreds of apples, ready to be cooked down as my mother shooed us back out. That night we feasted on something akin to today's apple pie. It was delicious but, far better, was the glint in each of our eyes about how the pie had come about. Best of all, Mikael had no idea. It was our secret and my mother had actually let us keep it from him; had kept it from him herself. _He_ was the one out in the cold; he was the outsider in the family." The smile gets smaller, more wistful. "We _were_ a family. For that moment, we were a family."

She sniffs. "Always and forever."

For the first time since he'd started the story, he meets her eyes. He nods slowly.

Then his smile widens again: "It's still the best pie I've ever tasted."

Caroline grins too, thinking of his disdain at the retro ice-cream store her dad had taken her to. It wasn't about the store or the ice cream. It was about the memories she'd created there.

"That's _your_ ice-cream shop."

It takes him a second to catch the reference before he chuckles a little.

"…I suppose it is."

She watches him for a long moment; watches the glow of the story still permeating his features, and reaches up to caress his face.

"Thank you for telling me."

He doesn't seem to know how to respond to this, his eyes searching her face, and she wants him to know he doesn't have to. She puts both hands to his face too before moving up, pressing her lips to his chin. Slow and chaste, she kisses him, before moving up an inch.

Her lips familiarise themselves with the prickle of his stubble; the curve of his dimple; the arc of his full top lip. The corner of his mouth tastes half like him and half like her, and she lingers for a second, her tongue darting out and making him moan quietly.

Then she's kissing him fully and his hands are in her hair as he pulls her closer, both of them moaning now. Her body's tingling everywhere and she's ripping the sheet away from their bodies when he stops her.

She draws away in surprise to meet his dazed look of confusion.

"You aren't going to ask me?"

She's just as confused. "Ask you what?"

"What I said to you at graduation."

Caroline frowns. "I told you that if you don't want to tell me, then I don't want to know."

They stare back at one another and she doesn't know what's happening; doesn't know how to read him, doesn't know whether she can continue. There's clearly something on his mind.

Nor does she know how to react when his hand goes to her cheek and his thumb caresses her face tenderly. For the first time she's the one to lean into it, addicted to the feel of his skin on hers. Her eyes close. He starts talking.

"I said I knew Tyler had been your first love."

Her eyes shoot open. She can't believe he's going to tell her.

"But that I intended to be your last." His thumb runs over her bottom lip. "No matter how long it took."

All air leaves her lungs.

Finally she knows. Her last _love_.

She remembers that dream.

 _He'd freaking promised to be her last and now here he was, already completely sucking at it._

"And you did," she breathes. "You waited. For thirty-five years, to be exact."

She wipes away his resulting abashed smile with a kiss.

* * *

He won't be surprised if, one day, his downfall is forgetting just how determined Caroline Forbes can be.

She has them both ready and panting in mere minutes, just with the grind of her body and the harsh of her kiss.

His fingers sink into her ass, pushing her closer to him, but she only gives him a second before prying his hands off with a look of admonishment.

She wants control, this time.

He's loathe to let her have it, but reminds himself just how enjoyable she tends to make it, and lets go. His hands go to her incredible breasts instead, roughly thumbing both her nipples, and he's happy to see her bite down hard on her lip.

" _Klaus_ ," she glares, "don't be a brat."

"Don't be a tease," he returns through his teeth.

He's hard as steel and he can feel how wet and warm she is each time she passes over him, close enough to tease but nothing else.

She rolls her eyes but presses her palms to his chest and lifts her hips. He watches the beautiful mound of her ass rise into the air before it slowly descends.

His jaw drops as she takes in his sensitive head slow-slow-slowly. He can feel every part of her; can feel impulses zinging from his cock to the rest of his body, desperate for more and less simultaneously. He has the urge to rip into something, anything, for some control.

She takes him further inside her and he tries to control his reactions when he realises she's watching him closely, the piercing blue of her eyes taking note of his every jaw tick and lip bite.

Suddenly she lands down on top of him all at once, taking him in fully.

"Fuck!"

He's not proud of the shout but it's like she barely heard him – her eyes are closed with half her bottom lip pulled into her mouth.

Then she kisses him, her whimpers unfurling as she sucks on his tongue. He's kissing her back just as fiercely, desperate for a distraction. All he can think about is how insanely good she feels, how nothing in the entire world feels as good as being sheathed inside her.

Her hands scrabble in his hair as her lips on his grow more erratic, and her hips twist in a motion that makes him moan and his hands tighten on her body. She draws them in the same figure-of-eight pattern as her head falls beside his, her breaths heavy.

"Love, you feel so good –" He groans, caught off-guard, and she cries out.

They're both still too sensitive from their last orgasms and she'd managed to pass him over her very swollen clit.

"Oh, fuck," she does it again, then sits up so she's astride him, and bounces. "Yes," she breathes, her eyes closed.

He's frozen, watching her. She's a goddess.

A goddess who is currently realising her power, because she continues slowly at first before her lips draw into a manic grin and she goes faster, drawing up and dropping down then squeezing. He can barely handle it. His grip on her is tight and her own fingers curl into his stomach as she keeps bouncing, only going quicker and quicker.

"God, you're so big, I –" but the rest never makes it past her lips. He feels her begin to draw more blood from him.

Which he doesn't care about – he'd give it all, for her. He cares about the way she suddenly drops into a rhythm and it's a deliciously torturous one.

Quickly his hips join in, driving into her after she draws him out and, fuck, it's fantastic.

She's whimpering so loudly, it almost drowns out the smacking of their bodies as they re-connect over and over and over, Klaus' ability to hold on stretching taut like a rubber band.

Suddenly he sees the muscles in her stomach spasm and her grip on him relaxes slightly as her grin widens.

"Yes," she murmurs, then shouts: "Yes! Yes yes yes," she cries to the beat of their bouncing hips.

She curses as she comes and it's watching her shake and spasm around him that draws out his own desperate orgasm. He sits up against her to put his mouth to her throat, kissing her before just sucking her skin into his mouth. His teeth leave marks as he groans and growls, animalistic as he comes harder and harder, like it's neverending, and she encourages it with her limbs all wrapped around him.

They both tremble for minutes on end, her orgasm continuing to rip through her every few seconds.

It's several minutes later when they fall back down, utterly exhausted.

Most of her body is on top of him, with her face snuggled near his throat. If she's capable of moving, she doesn't.

Her nipples are warm now and their come sticky. He can't be bothered to move, though. He wants to hold her like this forever.

"That was the best orgasm of my entire life," she says, still sounding dazed even though her voice is already thick with sleep.

"I can do better," he boasts, though he sounds worn-out too, even to his own ears.

She giggles breathily and he revels in the way her throat vibrates; the shape of her lips pressed to his skin.

"Is it ok if I sleep here?"

He's not sure if she means at his house or on top of him. He answers for both.

"Never leave."

Caroline smiles a little, exhausted, as she re-settles into a more comfortable position. Her breasts are pressed into his side and her still-warm core is settled against his hip; her elbow crooked around his neck with her hand on the other side of his head. He thinks he might be in heaven.

The sharp corners of her mouth soften and he looks down at her, his heart aching. The very first time he'd felt her do that – felt her let her guard down entirely, right up against him – it had taken him a whole day to stop thinking about it.

"I love you," she says sleepily into his collarbone then, with a tiny yawn, falls asleep.

He stares at her slack form, repressing the very pressing urge to wake her and ask her if she'd really meant to say that. If she really meant it.

After everything, it seems too good to be true.

So he stares and stares but she doesn't stir; gives no indication that right on top of him isn't where she wants to be.

Minutes turn to an hour and more as he re-indexes and catalogues her every feature. He knows Caroline Forbes' body better than the constellations in the night sky. For she is the sun; his break of dawn.

Eventually he begins to struggle against lethargy too, and he reluctantly accepts that he has to stop gazing at her breathtaking blonde form; stop his awe at how she is here with him, _breathing_.

He hasn't moved, for fear of jostling her and causing her to move, but now he risks it, pulling them closer together so he can wind his hand into her hair and cradle her body with his.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he breathes into her fruity hair.

She is his family, too. And she'd been right – _We're gonna be together_. They are together.

"Always and forever."

* * *

Birds are humming their midday tune when Klaus wakes with the ghost of a smile on his lips.

For a moment he's surprised Caroline isn't making fun of it – it had used to be her favourite morning pastime, once upon a time. His eyes fly open when he catches himself drawing that comparison between the two Carolines. He's about to berate himself, but he's stopped short by the empty bed beside him.

He frowns then rolls onto his back to cast a glance around the room. Her clothing is gone.

"Caroline?"

He listens for a response or any sort of sound from the bathroom, but none comes, and he's on his feet faster than he can tune his hearing to the rest of the house, room by room. He listens then listens again, double-checking every nook and cranny in the mansion.

But it can only confirm what, deep down, he already knows.

She'd run, after all. She's gone.


	23. Chapter 23

It may be because I'm retiring from fanfiction soon, but I'm getting misty-eyed thinking about how much I love this platform. Getting feedback immediately and directly is such an honour and I will always cherish every single one of your reviews. This chapter made me think about that because, without you guys, it would not exist. Two readers suggested/asked for these flashbacks and I thought they were brilliant ideas. Now I can't imagine the story without them. Thank you.

Also, I just wanted to say that there is a hetero-normative-seeming assumption made in regards to a baby in this chapter and I just wanted to apologise in advance. I tried to change it, but the comparison didn't really work without it. I believe love is love and no one has any right to tell you whom to love and I'm sorry hetero-normativity is a thing :(

I hope you guys will enjoy this chapter otherwise; let me know!

EDIT: There was an Italics issue, I'm sorry about that. I've now (hopefully) fixed it!

* * *

"Tell me she's with you."

Liz's confused silence lasts only a second.

"…I-I thought she was with you –"

"Fuck!"

"Klaus?"

He speeds off, Liz still calling to him as he blows into the cemetery. It's deserted, not a single person visiting their deceased vampire brother or werewolf lover.

He makes his way to the human graveyard and here there are a few people, but none of them are her.

"KLAUS!"

He tunes back in, Liz's voice finally managing to compete against the wild pounding of his heart.

"Liz."

"Where is my daughter, Klaus?"

He feels sick to his stomach. He wants to fall to his knees.

"I don't know, Liz, I don't know –"

"She called me from your phone last night –"

"She _was_ with me. She stayed the night. And then I woke up and –"

"Oh, god."

There's a thick silence, during which both their panic grows exponentially, knowing the other is just as terrified.

"Where else would she go, Liz?"

Another silence. No one she knows is alive – where _would_ she go?

"Maybe the cemetery?"

"I'm here now."

This time the silence is longer, more palpable. It stretches thick like a wall.

He feels hot all over, fevered, and is only roused when he hears commotion on the other end of the call.

"Go back home," Liz instructs, her voice different. It's a tone he hasn't heard in a long time. The Sheriff of Mystic Falls. "Look for anything missing or out of place."

In the blink of an eye he's back in his mansion, brushing his gaze over every item of furniture. But nothing is out of place.

There stands the wine glass filled with blood that he'd abandoned on the way upstairs, before he'd found her in his own bedroom and –

" _Klaus_ ," Liz's voice breaks through. "Stay with me."

"What did I do?" he growls. "I must have done or said something –"

"We don't know that." But the way she says it is like she does in fact know that. Like it's his fault, once again, her daughter has been taken from her. "Keep checking the house."

He doesn't want to move but forces himself to. She has a way of driving him – much like her daughter. His heart aches.

Then, coming to a standstill, he loses a breath.

"You found something?"

He's in the garage.

"One of my cars is missing."

"Why would she take a…"

But she doesn't finish, because they both know why Caroline would take a car though she'd been getting around town fine without one for days.

Because she didn't want to go anywhere _in town_.

Liz's voice is steely: "I need you to call Damon and check with him. Then wait for me, I'm coming over."

He contemplates staring at the phone.

"Liz, you run slower than I walk at a human pace. What do you expect me to do for the _five hours_ before you get here?"

" _God, he sounds more and more like her every day_ ," the woman grumbles to herself under her breath before addressing a now-miffed Klaus: "You need me. Nobody knows my daughter better. And, besides, she may come back. So just sit tight."

Klaus thinks Liz must have made an excellent sheriff. He hangs up the phone feeling marginally better; like someone has something under control. It makes him feel better to know someone has a plan. Because, for once, that someone is not him.

 _He_ is buried beneath piles of uncertainty and shame.

Now he lets his knees give out.

He lays his still-burning head back against the cold wall, trying to run through every second of last night; anything he'd said or done that would make her run.

There are too many options, really, so he switches to her reactions; any tells. But all he hears, over and over, is her telling him she loved him.

What had happened between then and her leaving?

Had she woken and, with the harsh light of day coming in through the window, suddenly seen the monster? Regretted everything she'd done with it? Everything she'd said to it?

His head feels like it may explode, so he forces himself to think of something else. Anything, anything else.

* * *

 _"Liz."_

 _He placed down the empty blood bag he'd been staring at for longer than he cared to think about._

"You haven't called in a while."

 _"Things have been busy."_

 _Not completely true; not entirely a lie. Things had been busy, but he'd had time to check in with her. He'd just opted to call one of his minions keeping watch instead._

 _There was something in her tone that he struggled to reckon with._

 _Concern, he supposed. It reminded him of Caroline. Caroline, whose voice he had not heard in nine years._

 _And each time they spoke he wanted to tell her 'It's over, I got them all. There's no one left on this planet who wants to kill your daughter'. Or 'Liz. She opened her eyes. She's awake'. But he could say neither._

 _"How are you?"_

 _His eyes closed. And then there was that. The question she would always ask. He had tried for five years to get her to stop, only to learn, for his trouble, where Caroline had inherited her strength of determination._

 _Eventually she'd managed to make him believe that she didn't want him to say good or fine. She wanted the truth._

 _"Seven."_

 _They'd developed a system; a way for her to get the truth without him admitting just how the pain grated on every nerve in his body._

 _It was out of ten; he had yet to experience anything below six._

 _"Last time we talked, it was a twelve. That's progress."_

 _"We have a lead," he said, by way of explanation._

 _It helped him to think clearer; to think at all. Otherwise he was utterly lost in a spiral of regret._

 _There was a knock on the door and his eyes flew open to glare at it, as if the look itself could impale the person on the other side._

 _"Hold on, Liz."_

 _He put the call on hold then sped up to the door and flung it open._

 _The concierge was all but shaking. Klaus had been at the hotel for three hours – long enough for the staff to be sufficiently terrified so he wouldn't have to deal with any banalities._

 _"I'm so sorry, sir," the man quivered, "I know you said you didn't want to be disturbed, but I was told this package was absolutely to be delivered immediately. I'm so sorry."_

 _Glimpsing the wooden box behind him, Klaus nodded._

 _"Yes. Bring it inside at once."_

 _He all but jumped into the room with it in tow, then left at a speed impressive for a human._

Klaus retook the call, though his mind was elsewhere.

 _"Apologies, Liz, it was Caroline."_

 _A gasp. "Caroline!" Then, lower: "…Oh."_

 _"Her coffin," he confirmed, his gaze on the mahogany._

 _"I know. I'm being silly. Sometimes, for a second, I still forget."_

 _He knew she was too embarrassed to admit to the other half of that truth: she didn't just forget, she also hoped. Hoped that, perhaps, an hour ago Caroline had opened her eyes and they just hadn't gotten around to calling her mother yet._

 _"You should feel fortunate you're_ able _to forget."_

 _She sighed. "I suppose."_

 _He wanted to be alone with her._

 _"Liz, I have to go."_

 _She hesitated. "I know. But you should come visit... Please."_

 _His free hand fisted. He hated sympathy. But he felt it now, creating guilt in spades._

 _He had kept her all to himself. Her mother needed her too. In a way, her mother needed_ him _, too. They were all they both had left of her._

 _"Of course. As soon as I'm able."_

 _"Good," she breathed in relief. "Tell Damon he's welcome, too."_

 _This was an old argument of theirs. He should've said the Salvatore wouldn't come, but that it wasn't because he blamed her or her daughter._

 _But_ he wanted to be alone with her.

 _"I will."_

 _They ended the call and he flung the phone away, unconcerned with where it landed. His hands went to the lid of the coffin and lifted it desperately._

 _A breath left his chest as he caught sight of her._

 _Still beautiful, despite the deathly veins._

 _"Hello, love," he said swiping some hair from her face._

 _His eyes swept over her chest, from where the fake stake had long since been removed. He always looked, though, just to make sure it wasn't rising and falling with breaths. Liz wasn't the only one who hoped._

 _His hand slid down to hers, where they lay tepid and stiff over her stomach._

 _He felt out of sorts when she wasn't with him, like all his innards were tangled up inside him. It was just barely worth travelling separately to avoid her being harmed in any potential ambushes._

 _His thumb caressed hers as he stared at the curves of her face, so serene yet lifeless._

 _It had taken so long to convince himself that she wasn't actually dead. He'd seen so many lifeless vampires like this – many by his own hand – and had not trusted those witches within an inch of his life. But then he would remember Bonnie's involvement, and his heart would stop pounding its way into his throat._

 _Still, the more time passed, the more it seemed more time would pass. And he could barely bare the thought._

 _He hardly drank anymore; didn't eat at all. He subsisted on blood and staring at her, waiting._

He was fully aware of how pathetic it was. But he needed it. Needed it to get through the long days of research; searching – and, when he was lucky, bloodshed.

 _It was the third thing that kept him going. Vengeance._

 _For she could not wake up, after all, till he had eliminated all threat to her life. And so he simultaneously wished she would wake and hoped she would not; not just yet._

 _He sighed and leaned in, laying his forehead lightly on hers._

 _"I just wish I knew when. I just wish I knew when you're coming back to me, Caroline."_

 _xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_ _xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_ _xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_ _xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_ _xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_ _xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_ _xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_ _xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_ _xxxxxxxxxxxxx_

 _Close to an hour later, another rap sounded on the door. This time cool and unconcerned. He sighed and, with one last look at her, lowered the lid of the coffin._

"Come in."

 _Damon strolled inside. "You ready?" Then, noticing the coffin: "You sure she's safe here?"_

 _Klaus nodded in answer to both._

 _"I have three vampires on every exit and GPS-dye on the cart. No one's getting to her without a fight and getting tracked."_

 _The Salvatore raise a brow. "Cool. Let's roll."_

 _Despite his precautions, Klaus cast a hesitant eye at the coffin. They didn't often stay in hotels – usually it was out-of-the-way houses or one of the Originals' own estates. Leaving her here made him uncomfortable._

 _Seeing Damon stare, he forced himself to remember that nobody, short of he, Liz and the vampire standing in this room, even knew Caroline was alive._

 _Grabbing his hotel room card, he glanced at Damon._

 _"You have the co-ordinates?"_

 _xxxxx_ _xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_ _xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_ _xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_ _xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_ _xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_ _xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_ _xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_ _xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_ _xxxxxxxx_

 _The man opened the door on the fourth knock._

 _He had one of those friendly faces Klaus loathed._

 _But he pretended to be kind: "Hello, are you Eldrick Finley?"_

 _"Yes." His eyes flicked from Klaus to the Salvatore behind him with, if not suspicion, then at least confusion._

 _He supposed two white men, one with a strange accent, was strange in these parts._

 _"How can I help you?"_

 _"I'd like to meet with your wife, is she home?"_

 _This produced a frown._

 _"My wife doesn't speak English."_

 _With a sigh, Klaus dropped the façade, opting to begin the compulsion instead._

 _"Invite me and my companion inside."_

 _"Of course. Please come inside, both of you."_

 _Stepping in, Klaus cast a quick look and listen around to make sure no one was visiting. But the only sounds – breathing – came from the bedroom._

 _"Why do you want to talk to my wife?"_

 _"Technically I never said talk."_

 _"But she has just –"_

 _"I know."_

 _Damon cleared his throat and Klaus gave him the desired attention._

 _"You gonna do it?"_

 _"I'm assuming_ you _won't... She really did a number on you, didn't she?"_

 _He glared back. "You think I should be ashamed I can't do what you're about to?"_

 _"If you were in my position, if it were Elena – would you do it?"_

 _He waited for the answer._

 _Not because he thought the Salvatore would have any valuable insight, but because his brother's words still haunted him._

 _He supposed he wanted validation._

 _But Damon could only meet his eyes for a second before lowering them to the ground, unable to provide an answer._

 _Klaus felt a sort of pity. Damon no longer knew who he was without the doppelganger and his brother. No Elena to soften him; no Stefan to foil him. Klaus, too, felt lost._

 _"Keep him here," he muttered before entering the bedroom._

 _She was almost entirely hidden by the covers. This reminded him of the first time he'd really met Caroline._

"Are you going to kill me?"

Yes.  
 _  
He sat down on the bed and put a hand on her shoulder. Her dark eyes opened slowly before, registering, she woke with a jolt._

 _"Who are you?"_

 _His cocked his head. "I thought you didn't speak English?"_

 _But she stared back at him, confusion and fear mingling in her eyes. He realised that must have been the only English she knew relevant to the situation._

 _"To answer your question, my name is Klaus."_

 _It was the last words she ever heard._

 _He covered her nose and mouth till well after she stopped flailing, when he'd heard her heartbeat cease. Not two seconds later the husband rushed in, followed closely by Damon._

 _"You were supposed to keep him there!" Klaus growled._

 _"He wanted to say goodbye. Forgot what a quick worker you are."_

 _He was about to reply when a wail came from the man's lips. It was ear-splitting and Klaus was about to grab him by the throat just to make it stop when it did._

 _"Why? Why?! Tell me why!"_

 _He shot Damon a look as if to blame him for this, but he only shrugged and Klaus sighed._

 _"…In short, your wife was related to someone who belonged to a cult with whom I have a bone to pick."_

 _"But–but –" His eyes darted to the corner of the room. He'd clearly drawn the correct conclusion. "No. Please. I'll do anything."_

 _Klaus watched the man for a moment, considering._

 _"Technically, I don't have to kill you. Your wife knew nothing of the cult, I'm sure, so neither do you." He watched a sliver of hope enter the man's eyes. "…But I_ did _just kill your wife and I certainly know how I'd react to that. So, I suppose," he shrugged, "if you really are willing to do anything for me, you can tell your family, when you see them, that I'm sorry."_

 _Eldrick was opening his mouth to speak when the snap of his neck sounded throughout the room._

 _His body dropped to the floor and Klaus spun, heading toward the corner of the room where the cot stood._

 _He heard Damon come to stand next to him but he didn't look at him, his eyes glued to the baby inside the cot._

But she has just –

 _Given birth._

 _The boy was a newborn, smaller than Klaus' forearm. He believed it was a week old. They'd named him after the mother's uncle, who had been one of Reese's followers._

 _It had slept through all the commotion but now opened its eyes, as if it knew two monsters were staring upon it. As if it knew this was its only chance to save itself._

 _Damon cleared his throat. "I'll start with the bodies."_

 _They tried to make them look like accidents. Damon would probably place the husband beneath a ladder._

 _He stared at the baby, blinking its oblivious gleaming eyes, as Damon heaved the husband over his shoulder._

 _He'd always despised infants. Yet he'd never come across one quite so young._

 _As it stared, Klaus caught the smallest glimpse into what must make them so appealing to humans. There was nothing in its eyes. No betrayal, no mischief; no anything. It was like a blank canvas, waiting for paint. He could be anything one day. He could be a monster. He could fall in love with a woman made of light._

 _Damon came back into the room._

 _"How do you want her?"_

 _"On her stomach. Pass me a cushion. We'll put the baby underneath her; it will look as if she accidentally suffocated them both."_

 _Damon passed a cushion but looked unconvinced. "At exactly the same time as her husband fell off a ladder? And all right before the house caught fire? You don't think that's pushing the limits of coincidence a bit far?"_

 _He was still staring at the baby, the thick cushion now in hand. "What else are they going to think? That a vampire killed them all for being adjacently connected to a cult, then styled their bodies to make it look like an accident, before setting the house alight to eliminate all written material?"_

 _"...Fair enough."_

 _Though Klaus thought he heard him mumble about someone perhaps starting a conspiracy theory about their murders._

 _Even if Klaus could bring himself to care enough, he wouldn't worry. Besides the initial rash of kills, their rampage had been rather well spread out over the years. Unfortunately leads were becoming less and less frequent._

 _"Almost done here," said Damon._

 _He wanted to ask what, exactly, the Salvatore was in such a rush to get back to, but said nothing. He had nothing either, besides a cold box._

 _The baby parted its lips, as if to cry, but no sound escaped._

 _He heard his brother's voice instead._

Do you think Caroline will be grateful for the atrocities you carry out in her name? Do you think she'd ever be able to _look at you_ again?

 _The baby blinked._

 _Like lightning he brought the cushion to its face and finally its screech began, tiny lungs being put to work for the last time._

 _It barely took thirty seconds._

 _The room had gone dead silent. He turned to face Damon, who was staring, incredulous._

 _"Do you need me to do it?"_

 _"No," Damon rolled his eyes, having finally found his bravado. "I can do it."_

 _Klaus stepped aside to watch the Salvatore lift the tiny corpse as if it were a person; as if there were a reason to be gentle._

 _But there wasn't, its soul had left. Where it had gone, Klaus had no idea. Nowhere, probably. Nowhere, he hoped._

 _Because if there were an afterlife, he knew precisely where he was going._

* * *

Klaus presses his eyes together hard.

That had been a mistake. Now all he can hear is Elijah's voice in his mind, over and over.

 _Do you think Caroline will be grateful for the atrocities you carry out in her name? Do you think she'd ever be able to_ look at you _again?_

When had she seen the monster?

* * *

 _Rebekah wouldn't meet his eyes._

 _Elijah stood like a disappointed statue as Klaus paced. He supposed it was accurate. Elijah, the stoic steadfast son. He, the frenetic energy, willing to actually_ do _something._

 _"Did you hear me, Niklaus? I said to call off Damon."_

 _The Salvatore had just left after receiving his orders._

 _"I heard. You know I heard. Which is why I wonder why you repeat it at all."_

 _"I suppose I live in the hope that one day you may do something that benefits another being."_

 _Klaus stopped and stared at his brother, wondering how he couldn't see it._

 _"Caroline chose to have the spell done to her –"_

 _"I was not referring to the spell –"_

 _"But she didn't choose to be in the situation that necessitated it. She didn't choose to be targeted by Reese and his followers. That was_ my _fault. And now she's in a coffin and she could wake up in 50 years or 300, when her mother and everyone she has ever known will be dead. And what will it all matter? If they come for her again? What will have been the point of it all, brother?!"_

 _Elijah stared, quiet, as it seemed to dawn on him for the first time that the hybrid's motives were not purely revenge._

 _He was quiet for a few long moments before speaking again._

 _"Then take care of those that need taking care of; the ones whom you can prove have knowledge and intent. Leave the teenagers and schoolteachers; nurses and children – these are innocents, Niklaus!"_

 _"And hope and pray that they don't come across an old family book, or remember a crazy story their uncle once told them? I'm not like you, Elijah," he sneered, "I'm not entrusting the life of my love to an elixir and a hail Mary!"_

 _Elijah's lips contorted. "You're referring to the ritual in which_ you _were going to bleed dry the woman I love?"_

 _Klaus stopped, knowing he'd unwittingly provided Elijah with his trump card. The elder Original stepped forward._

 _"_ Then _you were a monster. With no compassion, no mercy and no regard for others. That is not the man Caroline loved. That was no man at all. And I don't think she'd take a liking to the revenge-driven monster standing before me now, either."_

 _Now Klaus neared too._

 _"If only Caroline were here to affirm that assertion – oh, wait, she is. In a bloody coffin!"_

 _Elijah was as furious as Klaus had ever seen him._

 _"That cannot be helped now. The two of you made that decision and now, Niklaus, you have to live with it. And though you may think killing thousands of innocent people is for her, it's not. Do you think Caroline will be grateful for the atrocities you carry out in her name? Do you think she'd ever be able to_ look at you _again?" Elijah shook his head in disgust. "You're doing this so you_ don't _have to_ live with it _. And it's for your own gain. You don't_ really _think that a child is going to find an old book – you simply want everyone to know that standing against you means the death of everyone they've ever known or loved!"_

 _"I want everyone to know that uttering a word against Caroline means extinction!" Klaus roared, and the beams in the roof shuddered._

 _It seemed to reverse Elijah's anger. That idiotic children's saying, for them, was too true._

I'm a mirror, you're glue. Whatever you say reflects off me and sticks to you

 _When Klaus got this angry it seemed to rebound straight off his brother – taking away his anger, if anything – and only fanned the fire of his rage._

 _Elijah's voice was low; his tone smarmy in its cruelty._

 _"Then you're no better than our father."_

 _He wanted to rage; to say they had no_ our _father, but managed to bite his tongue in deference to Rebekah, who still sat watching. It was not like her to remain silent._

 _He wondered what he looked like, to her. Like the monster Elijah was describing?_

 _"Mikael hunted our_ family _."_

 _"That same old lie, Niklaus? He hunted_ you _. And cared nothing for the innocents who got in his way, supernatural or human. He besmirched our family's name. And now you're doing the same, only worse."_

 _Klaus' blood boiled. He wanted to tear his brother limb from limb or at least rip out his tongue. But his sister still watched._

 _He forced himself to step away from the standoff the two had been in._

 _"Rebekah, we're leaving."_

 _She stood as Elijah spoke again._

 _"Why, Niklaus? So you can have her hunting down humans as well? So you can take out your frustrations on someone who cares for you? We are your family, not your minions. The time has come and gone when we thought the one was akin to the other; when we thought enabling you helped anyone."_

 _Klaus' gaze went from Elijah's face to Rebekah's uncertain blinking one._

 _"_ Let's go _, Rebekah."_

 _But she backed away._

 _"I'm sorry, Nik. He's right."_

 _Again he felt the fury so strong in his veins; fury he knew was only settled by blood. Elijah's blood, in this case. But he forced it down. Moving on Elijah would only prove him right. And he had more important matters to attend to. Like soaking the streets of New Orleans with the blood of all the families of Reese's followers._

 _Instead Klaus jabbed his finger at him._

 _"I'll be sure to tell Caroline, when she wakes, that your pride and good-bloody-name was more important to you than her life!"_

 _Shooting both his siblings a sneer, he spun and made for the door, but Elijah spoke once more._

 _"If you do this, Niklaus, if you become that monster again, you will not only lose Caroline. You will also be losing a brother."_

 _Keeping his back turned, Klaus growled._

 _"I haven't had a brother since the moment you valued anything above Caroline's safety."_

 _And then he left._

* * *

The sound of a car pulling up outside the mansion breaks Klaus from his reverie.

Liz is here.

He supposes he will have to take back his words about how slow she is.

He gets up sluggishly. He's not full of hope that Liz had discovered anything. If Caroline wanted to cover her tracks, she would've done so expertly. Liz had been right – the only way to find her daughter is to brainstorm together.

She'd said no one knew her daughter better – he would've argued that, once upon a time. Now he's not sure he knows her at all.

He still doesn't know _when_. When he did whatever it was that had made her run.

With a sigh he winds his way through the house, but falters when he hears a strong heartbeat in the foyer, alongside the sound of the front door closing.

He rounds the corner and stops dead.

She's wearing a white shirt dress – quite contrary to the black number she'd worn last night – and with the sun coming in behind her, bouncing off her lighter hair, she looks like an angel.

"Caroline," he mutters, speechless otherwise.

A slow grin starts on her lips, her eyes searching him almost hungrily.

"Takes."

He stares.

Then he shakes his head, confused.

" _What_?"

Stepping closer, her smile only grows wider; brighter.

"I never got to finish." Her eyes are gleaming. "However long it _takes_."


	24. Chapter 24

**I am going to miss you guys so much**. There's little I can say that I haven't said before (thank you thank you thank you so much for the support, I love you, thank you for winning me a KA) and I know it's been a while, so I don't want to write an essay here before you get to the actual chapter, but I just wanted to say that. You guys have been an amazing audience to write for. So much so that what was supposed to have been a 34 000-word story (LOL at my very first Author's Note) turned into a whopping 95 000 words. I will also miss this story. It's been such a great adventure with these two characters (and practically nobody else!) in this particular situation.

I didn't know so many of you were unaware of my imminent retirement. Thank you so much for your wonderful words of kindness, encouragement and love. If you'd like some more explanation (or if you have any other questions for me), you can hop over and chat to me on my tumblr at mrslackles :)

Without further ado -

P.S. Ok, a little further ado - for those of you who didn't remember, the reason Caroline says "Takes" at the end of the last chapter is because that was the word she wasn't able to say just before the spell 100% took over her and she went into the coma...

* * *

"No."

His eyes are as wide as she's ever seen them. He takes a step back.

"No, no no no. This isn't real."

Her hair blows back as she rushes forward. Gently she rubs her thumb over the back of his hand.

"Does it feel real?"

He looks down at where their hands touch and she can't help doing the same.

His skin on hers. So simple, and yet it makes her want to cry.

She's waited so long.

Her other hand goes up to his face and it's like he wants to move away but can't. He's staring at her like she's genuinely some kind of phantom.

"Do you remember when you told me that you wished you knew when I was coming back to you?"

He nods jerkily. "Of course." His voice is gruff.

She draws closer so she's breathing on his lips but her eyes are still on his.

"The answer is now, Klaus. I came back to you."

He still doesn't seem to believe it. He shakes his head.

Then: "You heard that?"

She smiles. "Of course I did."

It was then that she'd realised their souls were connected. That there was nothing in heaven or earth, nor anything in between that could tear them apart. Not even magic.

But he pulls away from her, shaking his head.

"How is this possible?" he accuses. "How do you remember? Where did you go?!"

"To New Orleans. To find Rosemary."

"Who?"

"The witch who found the spell originally." She sighs. "It took longer than I expected to track her down. Turns out, finding a witch in New Orleans thirty-five years later, with nothing more than a first name, takes a while. As does performing a memory spell." She tentatively takes a step closer, hoping he won't pull back again. "I'm sorry. I really hoped I'd be back before you woke up."

He's staring at her and now it's like he's witnessed a miracle. In an instant he's closed the distance between them, his hands on either side of her face.

"You really have your memories back? All of them?"

She nods, realising she's smiling so hard her cheeks kind of hurt.

"Yes, Klaus. It's me. Finally."

He pulls her to him and she smiles even harder into his neck as her eyes close, taking in the scent and feel of him. But she barely gets a second before she's ripped away from him again, his eyes laser-focused.

"I don't understand. Why find the witch? Why find her _now_? How did you know she would have a spell that could bring back your memories?"

Her smile drops away.

She bites on her lip. Slowly she steps back so they're not touching anymore, watching the frown lines appear on his forehead. She'd been dreading this moment – having to explain decisions she hadn't even made. Well, not this version of her, anyway.

"Well, um…"

His eyes narrow. " _Caroline_."

"She… she figured that since her memories were coming back naturally, maybe there was a way to unblock them all at once. She remembered Rosemary from my journals."

He takes a step back again, fury and disbelief in the widening of his eyes this time.

"Since _what_?"

She sighs at the growl, stepping forward.

"Can we skip the being mad part and just go right to 'Oh, look, you're here!'?"

He doesn't smile. "You were getting memories back and you kept it from me?"

"Technically, she did, not me. And it was a completely random and undependable process."

"But you kept it from me," he growls.

" _She_ kept it from you. Because she didn't wanna get your hopes up."

He folds his arms, his jaw mutinous.

"You've become good at lying to me."

"I've always been good at lying to you," she smirks.

"You think this is a joke?"

"I think you're being ridiculous! This is a good thing, what does it matter how it happened?!"

"It matters that you lied to me."

"Oh _god_ , fine! If we're gonna be crazy, then it matters that you cheated on me!"

His jaw drops open and a sound comes from his throat that she can only describe as a cat drowning.

"I did _what_?"

"You heard me. You slept with someone who wasn't me. Since we're choosing dumb things to be mad about, I'm choosing that."

"That's nowhere near the same thing and you know it," he accuses. "She _was_ you."

"If that were true, then it wouldn't matter that she was getting memories back," she points out with a self-satisfied tone that makes him glare at her.

"You have the same body –"

"Oh, so now you only care about my body?"

His glare is frustrated and she steps closer with a smile, till they're chest to chest.

"Can you now stop being ridiculous and kiss the woman who has gone completely unkissed for _thirty-five years_?"

All her fingers go up to twine into his hair, and there's the smallest hint of a smirk on his lips before they hit hers. She smiles and tries to get closer, getting up onto her toes as she opens her mouth and lets his tongue invade.

For the first time since getting up off Rosemary's floor, she relaxes. For thirty-five years, her body had been frozen in suspension in that coffin, but now, finally, it relaxes. As if her every atom has reached home.

Her tongue tangles with his and he lifts her up from the floor a little as their heavy breaths become hotter and hotter. Her hand goes from his hair to his ear then his jaw.

She tries to keep it soft and intimate, but far too quickly they're both panting and he's moving them into the lounge where he lets her down on the back edge of the couch. She's grinning when his mouth goes to her neck and her legs wrap around him. His lips are on the peaks of her breasts when he stops.

"Fuck."

She frowns. "What?"

He straightens and the expression on his face is sheepish.

"Your mother is on her way over."

Caroline gasps. "You called her?"

"Of course I did, you were missing!"

"How long ago?"

"Almost an hour now," he sighs heavily and she grins.

"That's what you get when you invite over the woman with the world's slowest walker," she laughs, unwrapping her legs from around him. "I guess that means she'll be here soon."

"Hopefully," he sighs, backing up.

She smirks as she rounds the couch then drops down. In a second he joins her and she gets closer, putting one hand on his leg and the other on his face. It still feels surreal just to be able to touch him. To be able to see him. She can't stop staring.

"You really heard everything?" he asks, concern in the way he swallows.

She wonders how desperate some of the things he'd said to her had gotten.

"Not everything," she shakes her head. "At first I thought I was, and maybe I actually was, but as time went on, I thought I'd been sleeping for only a few minutes and then you'd tell it had been a year. And then it became even less often than that."

"So you didn't feel the passing of time?"

"Not really. It was like zoning in and out of a conversation. Until, eventually, I forgot to zone back in."

"That must have been when your memory began fading."

She nods. It's the same conclusion she'd arrived at on the way back to Mystic Falls.

Klaus turns his head to kiss the inside of her palm, closing his eyes for a second.

"Love, I'm so sorry. I never should've let them do that spell on you."

She rolls her eyes. "It was my idea. And it was the right one. Did it suck? _Yeah_. But it worked, right?"

"All's well that ends well?" he scoffs, and she almost giggles at the positive saying struggling off his sceptical British tongue.

"…You know, it's actually pretty cool, if you think about it. You made the same woman fall in love with you twice, from scratch. No one else can claim that."

Which was how she'd finally been able to come back to him. Realising she was in love with him was what had made the other Caroline want him to have the version of her he really wanted; the one he'd begun building a life with.

It's like he can read her mind.

"What was it like? Being stuck in your own mind with an earlier version of yourself?"

"Better than being in a coma. Although worse whenever she hurt you." She sighs. "It was like being stuck in the passenger seat of a car you really love. And you know the driver, you know she knows how to drive, you know she's the one you'd want if someone else _had_ to be driving – but you really really want to be in front of the wheel."

He nods slowly.

"…Were you inducing the memories?"

She shrugs. "Not on purpose. But I think she could feel me there, pressing down on her mind, and I think that's what induced the memories. Rosemary figured the same."

"Rosemary…" he ponders, twirling a piece of her hair. They're practically on each other's laps. "How did you get to New Orleans? I'm assuming you didn't drive the whole way?"

"With your jet. I found the number in your car."

He glares, murder clearly in his eyes and she rolls hers.

"I told Gary not to tell you," she brings up the pilot. "You can't give your staff a blanket command to do everything I tell them and then get mad at them for it."

"…Very well," he sighs.

She nibbles on her lip for a second before deciding to just spit it out.

"And I also told him where we're headed next."

A brow shoots up.

"Where?"

She takes a breath. "Cairo."

It takes only a second before he's vehemently shaking his head.

"I know you have a fondness for fixing everything, love, but Elijah and I are beyond reconciliation."

"I think you mean you _were_ beyond reconciliation. Now _I'm_ back," she smiles sunnily.

"I miss the version of that who didn't know you could boss me around," he grumbles, and she laughs a little. "Alright. But I'm not apologising."

"Yeah, you are."

He gasps. "You don't even know what happened!"

"No, but I know he's him and you're you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That he was probably just trying to act in everybody's best interest and you said something terrible to him." He looks stumped by this and her smile widens triumphantly. "You're apologising."

He looks down and it's quiet for a moment.

Then: "What of the cause of the quarrel?"

She stares at him in consideration, trying to figure out how to phrase her feelings.

"…I thought about it the whole way here. And I know you did what you did out of love. But that doesn't make it ok."

He looks up, disquiet in his eyes.

"That being said…" She sighs. "I feel safe. And I have felt safe. Throughout this entire thing, with people hunting me for my heart, Reese storming into the bedroom – I felt safe. Because of you. When I'm with you, I feel safe, no matter what."

He's looking at her incredulously and she realises there are tears coming from her eyes. His aren't entirely dry either.

She smiles. "And that's because there are two things in this entire world I know for sure – that you will always, _always_ protect me. No matter what." Her hand reaches out to his face and he keens into it. "Because, two – you love me." She moves closer, till their breaths mingle. "And I love you too."

He presses his forehead to hers and they're both breathing heavily.

Licking away a tear, her smile widens.

"But you better have had all your fun with that massacre, because it's going to be your last." He pulls back a little to chuckle and she grins back. "…You'll always protect me and I'll always rein you in."

"Is that our thing?" he teases.

"I guess it is," she laughs. Then, not smiling: "My serial killer, remember?"

His eyes widen as his smile falls away too. The words are not lost on him.

" _I remember._ "

Her smile returns. "Me too."

* * *

Liz pushes open the door to her son-in-law's mansion.

It had been half ajar, which would normally set off all her sheriff alarms, but she's learned that no cause for concern for humans counts when it comes to Klaus Mikaelson. Well, apart from anything involving her daughter, that is.

She shakes her head as she enters, still thinking about his tone on the phone.

Utter hopelessness and guilt.

She'd had it on her mind throughout her time at the station. Thirty-five years and never had she heard it quite like that.

Liz never thought hope could be a person. But for Klaus, Caroline is.

Without her, life holds nothing for him.

Over the years she'd gotten judgement from friends and peers for letting him into her life the way she has. But when someone loves your only child that much, what else is there to do?

Hearing light talking coming from the lounge, she pushes her walker there.

She stops almost immediately at the doorway.

Klaus' head is resting, his expression drawn yet vibrant, as if being reluctantly forced by a sunny day to open up. It makes no sense – except in the presence of the other person on the couch.

Her daughter has her hand on Klaus' face, caressing and smiling. _Beaming_ ; beaming light onto him.

Liz thinks of something he'd once said to her, when she'd asked how he was doing and he'd said _Nine._

 _I never understood what she did with my darkness, Liz. But she took it, some of it, and replaced it with the sort of light that leaves no corner untouched. With the ferocity of fire; incandescent as the sun itself._

 _But now she's not radiating in the dark room; she's not even shining into it. The darkness self-perpetuates; becomes ever-consuming, and I'm drowning in it._

She wipes away a tear as she watches Caroline stroke at his hair. She'd always loved her daughter unconditionally; had always known she was special.

But Klaus had taught her that she is a miracle, too. She could turn a monster into a man before your very eyes. Blood and sadism transmogrified into someone to touch and comfort, with just her hand on him.

To look at Klaus is to see a malignant threat. To look at Klaus being looked at by Caroline is to see someone worthy of care.

It's so special that even though Liz wants to move and go to her daughter, she's frozen, watching.

"Thank you for telling me," Caroline is whispering. "I really hope losing my memories isn't the secret key to getting you to talk to me about your parents."

He smiles just a little.

"You know I'd do anything not to have to talk about Mikael or Esther. But not that."

Her smile echoes his and she leans forward to lay a barely-there kiss on his lips. They break apart then share eye contact that Liz feels awkward watching.

She clears her throat and they both look up with surprise.

"And here I thought it was impossible to sneak up on vampires."

Caroline duly flushes pink before jumping up.

"Mom!"

"Frail bones," Liz reminds a second before her daughter barrels into her.

She smiles into the bone-crushing hug, Caroline attempting and failing at human pressure.

She shoots a look at Klaus over her shoulder. "You know, it's good manners to both inform a mother when her daughter goes missing _and_ when she returns."

To the Original's credit, he does look semi-guilty for a second before he finds a rejoinder.

"Yes, well, I did think of calling, but I feared you may have died on the way over, seeing as it's a ten-minute drive and it's been nearly an hour and a half."

Caroline pulls away from the hug with a light laugh and Liz rolls her eyes.

"I was at the police station, laying a Missing Creature report."

Caroline gasps in horror. "Missing _Creature_?"

Liz sighs. "Yes, I know the terminology could use some work but, trust me, just getting the Council to agree it should be a thing was tough enough."

Her daughter folds her arms determinedly. "Sounds like something else for my to-do list."

"Speaking of Missing Creature – where did you _go_?"

Caroline breaks into a grin.

"Mom, I have some amazing news."

* * *

"So what now?"

"Well, we _were_ going to have sex, but knew you were due sometime this year," Klaus replies evenly.

Liz shoots him a dirty look.

"It's moments like these I miss having a gun."

Klaus chuckles as Liz rolls her eyes and Caroline watches in fascination.

"I still can't believe you two talk to each other like this."

Liz stands from her seat where she'd listened and marvelled at Caroline's story of getting her memories back, first naturally and then with Rosemary's help. And, of course, her complaints about Klaus' exaggerated reaction to it all.

"I suppose I should go. Not least because I've been here for almost an hour and haven't even been offered coffee," she glares at Klaus.

He shrugs with zero guilt. "I don't make warm beverages. And I have yet to hire staff."

"You should get on that," Caroline points out. "We need to have a big family meal as soon as we get the Mikaelsons back together."

"Oh, it will be so nice to see Elijah again," Liz swoons, before both Forbes women laugh at Klaus' almost audible eye rolling.

Stepping forward, Liz lays a kiss on her daughter's forehead.

"Glad you're back, baby." She eyes Klaus. "Are you coming over for dinner?"

"Are we coming over _for_ dinner, or am I coming over _and cooking_ dinner?"

She narrows her eyes. "Why do you ask questions you know the answer to?"

He throws up his hands. "You're supposed to be perfecting the crockpot duck!"

"And what's the best way to learn than to watch it be cooked right in front of my eyes?" she says with a tone so silky smooth, no one could deny her relation to Caroline.

With a wink at the younger blonde, she hastily makes her way to leave before the Original can object.

Caroline curls back onto Klaus, her legs on his lap and her face on his shoulder.

"Crockpot duck?" she questions into his neck, giggling.

"Your mother's cooking is atrocious; I don't know how you managed growing up."

She laughs even harder, playfully hitting him. "Hey! That's my mom you're talking about. And her talents lie elsewhere. Like miraculously managing to get along with her daughter's pain-in-the-ass boyfriend."

"Getting along with _me_? She just managed to finagle me out of making a cup of coffee and into making an entire dinner. If there was ever any doubt that you two are related…"

She hits him again.

"It's not our faults you're so easily manipulated."

"Swindled is probably more accurate."

"Don't make me request something harder than crockpot duck."

"My ceviche last night wasn't sufficient?"

"Obviously not," she teases. "Then again, _nothing_ last night was particularly _sufficient_."

She breaks out into belly-aching laughter at his look of insulted surprise.

"Can you get the other Caroline back? I think I prefer her."

She only laughs harder.

"Want the easier-to-please audience, huh?"

"No, just the less mouthy one," he shoots back.

Leaning closer, she smirks. "Too bad. You're stuck with this me."

His voice is low, his breath on her lips when he replies.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

Then he kisses her and she responds in kind, pushing forward and onto his lap. Her hands in his hair, the kiss becomes fiercer; both of them moaning when he rips open her shirt. She's too busy getting off his top to bemoan the buttons flying everywhere and no sooner has it cleared his head than his mouth is on her breasts, sucking desperately.

She grinds down on him, her breaths coming too hot and quick as his hands squeeze her ass then travel to the juncture between her legs.

Her head falls forward, her heart pounding against his shoulder as his fingers draw up her slit. She grinds down and he growls.

"Easy, love."

But her fingers bite into his biceps and he groans against her hardened nipple.

"Shit, I can't wait," she realises all at once, then pulls away to get to his jeans.

With her mouth she erases all argument from his lips as she undoes the buttons then expertly pulls down his jeans. Using her considerable strength, she pushes them both over so she's on top, drowning in the way he's looking up at her.

She's concentrating on the waistband of his underwear when suddenly he makes a sound of annoyance. She looks up in surprise.

"What?"

He pulls a face. "There's something beneath me."

Frowning, she moves back a little so he can shift and pull it out from under him.

Immediately his face mars and the mostly pink object drops from his hand as if it had burned him, jangling as it hits the ground.

Klaus looks like he may just be sick.

"…Aunt Jacqueline's teeth, I presume."

Caroline wants to respond, but it's all she can do to breathe as she bursts into laughter.

It only gets harder when Klaus begins muttering about how he's definitely killing the old bat next time.

But she's still laughing, harder and harder, and eventually Klaus gets to chuckling then full-on laughing too, and then they're kissing and laughing; laughing and kissing.

And she thinks: she could never forget this.


End file.
